The Champion's Tale
by Naryfiel Lilith
Summary: Althea Hawke. Mage, warrior, and noble. Kirkwall's most devoted protector. But much of her remains a mystery, lost in the rumors and chaos as the Templar-Mage War begins. At the behest of Seeker Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, her most devoted ally, shares her story at long last.
1. Chapter 0) The Storyteller and Seeker

**Kirkwall – Hawke Estate – 9:40**

_The Storyteller and the Seeker _

* * *

_The doors slam open with a loud crash as the two guards drag in their captured dwarf and throw him into a chair. It takes the dwarf a moment to recognize the chair, despite having been a frequent visitor to this Estate. Hawke would sit it in when she wrote and read her letters. It feels wrong for him to be sitting in it. Then again, everything about his current situation feels wrong. _

"_I've had gentler invitations," he cracks as he rubs his arms to stave off the unnatural cold. Hawke's house had always been a warm place, even when she had been in the depths of sorrow. The coldness shows that his friend was nowhere near. The darkness also shows this. Hawke's house had never been dark._

"_We've found you at last, Varric Tethras," a voice says. A woman steps from the shadows of the room. She had short black hair that matches the black armor she clad herself in and two swords belted to her waist. She carries a book in her hand that she absently flips through. He catches glimpses of portraits of old friends on the pages. "You've caused me quite some trouble, trying to track you down. Your adventures with King Alistair and that pirate Isabela have been quite interesting to read."_

"_And who exactly do I have the honor of addressing?"_

"_I am Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry."_

"_You've cut your hair since I last saw you," he notes calmly, recognizing her. "Hero of Orlais."_

"_I'm surprised you remember. We didn't talk at all then."_

"_Now that the politeness is done…" He notices the guards creep closer and chuckles off his nervousness. "What is it that you're seeking?"_

"_The Champion." _

"_Which one?"_

"_You know _exactly_ which one," she snaps, throwing the book at him before holding a blade at his throat. "Start talking, dwarf. They tell me you're good at it."_

"_Few people are good at talking with something sharp at their throat," he points out nonchalantly. She takes the hint and sheathes her sword again. He glances through the book and is impressed by the details. "So…?"_

"_Tell me about her. Kirkwall's Champion."_

"_Oh, come now," he laughs off, leaning back in the chair and trying to get comfortable in it. He wonders briefly how Hawke had stood the chair. "Surely you know about the Champion. She was an Archmage beyond compare, a goddess among mortals. A shining example of how mages could be outside the jurisdiction of the templars and Kirkwall's most devoted protector." He studies the Seeker. "You met her once. It wasn't that long ago."_

"_Yes, I did. I find it amazing that such a conspirator could've hidden so well."_

"_Conspirator?" he repeats, suppressing outrage. "Oh, does this have to do with the Chantry incident?"_

"_What else?"_

"_She was just as shocked as any of us, you know. She never could've imagined that could happen."_

"_No, I don't know." She smirks and Varric fights the urge to groan as he realizes he's stuck. Well, he did always enjoy spinning a tale. "That's why you're here. Tell me."_

"_Oh, all right," he sighs. "Let's see… it all began in Lothering, the small farming village located in the southern part of Fereldan..."_

* * *

Smoke and ashes drifted lazily through the air. The land had been ravaged. Now, the ravagers, the infamous darkspawn of legend, were patrolling the area, looking for survivors.

The poor fools. They hadn't counted on me.

One quick burst of silver-white magic called forth a cascade of lightning that devoured the darkspawn who dared walk upon my land. To my right, my younger sister, Bethany, summoned a wall of flame to cut off the cowards who tried to run. To my left, my younger brother, Carver, cleaved through the few who survived the storm.

Carver hooked his greatsword on his back when the last one died and kneeled over the corpse. The thin sunlight glinted off his griffon-imprinted armor. "Darkspawn," he confirmed. "Of course, they're here."

"We'd have to fight them sooner or later," Bethany pointed out, dusting off her sapphire blue robes with one hand. Her silver staff glowed in the other. "Look on the horizon. More come."

"Then we'll have to make our stand here," I sighed, drawing the sword at my belt. My armored arm shone in the light. I checked my other, not armored one to ensure the sigil I'd drawn early was still there. "Prepare yourselves."

These darkspawn were simple to dispatch, so I opted solely for my sword for the fight. I almost felt sorry for them. The poor things were just falling apart at a touch. A simple slash and they seemed to explode into pieces. Did they eat 'explodium' or something before coming here to destroy my home?

"We can't keep this up forever," Bethany informed us as more darkspawn appeared in the distance. We had only a slight breather before they arrived.

"Perhaps we'll be lucky and they'll run out of darkspawn," I joked. She gave me a stern look and I laughed. "Relax. We'll get through this together."

"Right, because the Hawke siblings are invincible," Carver sarcastically added. "They're almost here, you know."

"Then it's time to fight." As they approached, I had an idea. "So, shall we pick who gets the honors?"

"Blade or sorcery?" Carver grinned. "I vote blade."

"You can have them," Bethany agreed. "I'm not in a hurry to burn out _my_ power quite yet."

"Leave it to me!" Carver cleaved through the approaching darkspawn like a war hammer. Unfortunately, more came from the sides to try and overwhelm us. The idiots. Were they really so desperate to die?

Again, I didn't bother using magic. Bethany was slinging enough to deal with the handful Carver and I couldn't reach with our blades. It was only a matter of minutes before the area was clear again and we got another breather. At least, that was what I'd assumed. As the last fell, I felt the ground shake underneath my feet. Something was coming. Something big.

The something turned out to be a giant, monstrous ogre with horns latter than horses. He bore his teeth and roared a thunderous war cry as a challenge.

"Finally, something entertaining," I noted with a grin. "I call this one, you two."

"You get to have all the fun," Carver complained as he turned to tear into the darkspawn that had accompanied the brute.

"Try not to get too injured," Bethany called as she called forth flames to help Carver.

Knowing the two would be fine, I focused on the ogre. Its attacks were incredibly basic. A charge forward to headbutt. A swing of the arms for a punch. A grab to try and squeeze. But one doesn't catch a mage with such simple tactics. If were that easy, then mages wouldn't be feared.

When he came to headbutt me, I called up a shield to make him bounce off and crack his skull. A punch was met with a stonefist or lighting. A grab was countered with fire and ice. While certainly more of a challenge than the darkspawn Bethany and Carver were slaughtering, he wasn't much of a threat, especially after one blow cracked and broke his horns and sent him stumbling back in pain.

Deciding to end this, I leapt onto it to drive my sword into its neck again and again and again. Then, as it fell, I jumped off and walked away, casually tossing a fire spell over my shoulder to ensure its death. No kill like overkill.

"The ogre is gone, but we're still surrounded," Bethany noted forlornly as we three siblings slowly clustered together in the center of the outcropping again, backs to each other to keep them guarded.

"There's no end to them," Carver confirmed grimly. "Is this our last stand?"

The roaring of a massive dragon of red and purples scales answered that question with a resounding 'no'. It launched into the air with its building-wide wings, spewing a stream of fire to-

* * *

"_Bullshit," the Seeker suddenly interrupts. "None of that happened!"_

"_Is that not the story you've heard?" Varric asks in return, relaxing now. He is in control now. He knows that. _

"_I want the truth, dwarf," she growls with one hand hovering over one of her two blades. "If I wanted meaningless tales, I'd pull the first person I saw on the street and ask them!"_

"_Those stories provide hope for people," he counters. "They aren't meaningless."_

"_They are meaningless to me."_

"_That is your problem, not mine."_

"_I could kill you."_

"_But then you don't get what you want, do you?" She is silent, so he continues. "So, what _do_ you want to know?"_

"_Everything."_

_He rolls his eyes. "Right, so you want to know about the time when Hawke spent two hours inspecting a piece of armor? How much sex she and-?"_

"_Enough!" she growls. "You're just being difficult."_

"_As are you."_

"_I am not here for stories. Tell me the truth!"_

"_What makes you think I know it?"_

"_Don't lie! You knew her! You knew her before she was the Champion!" She turns his back to him. "Do you have any idea what's at stake here?"_

"_Your precious Chantry has fallen into pieces," he answers bluntly. "All of Thedas dangles on the brink of war."_

"_Yes. All will be lost to war." _

"_And, let me guess. You're looking for the Champion because you need the goddess among humans, the only one who can put it all back together." _

_She whirls to face him again. "If you know this, then why are you being difficult? Why are you not helping me?!"_

_There is silence as the two engage in a staring contest, neither entirely willing to stand down. The Seeker's glare is accusatory. The dwarf's is searching._

"_You're like the others," he whispers with a heavy sigh. He did not see what he'd hoped to see in her face. "You only see what she appears to be. You make assumptions based on that. But, you know what, despite my calling her a 'goddess', she's human. She's just a normal human mage. She was scared shitless half the time, weighed down by her failures, and often unable to see the real good she did. Tragedy followed her wherever she went. Yet she still held her head tall. She still gave the image of the graceful and powerful warrior, the calm and wise mage, the gentle and just noble. She gave the people hope. She still does. Most people can't imagine a mere human can be that, so they say she's not. That leads to people like you. You assume that there _is_ something that can be done, could be done. You assume that she can just magically fix things. But she can't. No one can."_

"_Then tell me about her," the Seeker replies. Her words are surprisingly soft, as if she's aware she's failed some test. "Tell me what happened. I wish to know."_

"_Why?"_

"_You've said it many times. She gives hope. She's a powerful warrior. She is a wise mage. She is a just noble. She was the one stabilizing force in that city, the one that actually tried to make things better. Even as everything fell apart, when the rest of the world just watched and assumed the worst would happen and all of Kirkwall would die, she performed a miracle and made it so that the only casualties were mages and templars."_

"_Even then, there were fewer mage deaths than expected," he added softly._

"_Precisely. Then you have the fact that she can talk to a wide range of people, and be heard. The mages will listen to her. The templars will listen. Even the Seekers will. Anyone with a brain knows that. But I need to find her. She is my best chance to end this war at the moment. I also need to know how this war came to be."_

"_Wasn't that because of the Circle dissolving itself and the Nevarran Accord being nulled?" _

"_That was how the war _started_, but that's not what triggered it. It all began in Kirkwall. It's fall was the spark that started the flame, a flame that the templars and Seekers tried to snuff out and failed miserably in doing so, due to harsh methods." She glances over her shoulder, as if looking at someone. But Varric is unable to see if another person is there or not. "I need to know the Champion's tale if I'm to learn anything and accomplish my objectives."_

_He is silent for a long while, but then he nods. "Well, I suggest getting comfortable, Seeker. This is a long, and not very happy, tale. It's a long struggle of one woman trying to keep things safe and, because of fanatics, all she could do was minimize the casualties."_

"_Considering the circumstances, I would consider that a miracle." The Seeker's voice is still soft as she sits across from him. He remembers that as a chair Leandra had liked to read in. "There is still shock that there were _any_ survivors, despite it being three years since the disaster."_

"_Hawke always did see her failures more clearly than her successes." He shakes his head. "She changed the face of Thedas forever, simply by choosing to keep some people alive when they would've otherwise died. She was the right woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her tale wasn't kind to her. Are you still willing to listen?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And you're not worried that I'll make it up as I go?"_

"_Not. At. All."_

_He leans forward, smiling slightly. "Then let me tell you the _whole_ story."_

* * *

Author's note – This chapter, and the very last chapter, shall be the only times where framing device of Varric telling Cassandra the story are the bulk of the chapter. I'll be using them as a replacement for the Wardens' Tale's scenes at the beginning of chapters. Most times, they'll be used for clarification, or to poke some fun. Also, characterizations used for the tale segment won't necessarily be what's shown in the story proper. I was just having some fun.

Dragon Age 2 is… an interesting game. I personally like it quite a great deal, seemingly for the reasons that people _hate_ it. I like that it's dark. I like that, in the end, you couldn't do anything. It _really_ emphasizes the fact that the war between the Templars and Mages was inevitable. I do not, however, believe that makes the player completely inconsequential. It's implied, frequently, that many of the characters who play important parts in Kirkwall's story are only able to _get_ to those parts because of Hawke. I do also think that Hawke's presence significantly reduced the number of casualties that Kirkwall's fall would've had otherwise, which I consider a _huge_ victory, all things considered.

Some general notes about this story – Hawke is both warrior and mage (or rather a mage masquerading as a warrior). I will be keeping both siblings. Her love interest shall be Fenris (though there might be flirtations with others, particularly Isabela). Sebastian will _not_ be in here (as I don't have his DLC still and I want to mirror Wardens' Tale which did not have Shale). Going ahead and getting those four points out of the way, since they could be make or break for people.

I will also try to keep it as a 'one quest = one chapter' story, for ease. This will be less firm in the beginning, considering how _many_ quests can be done near simultaneously, or simply aren't long enough for one chapter, or have multiple parts that best make sense in separate chapters. Also, unlike Wardens' tale, there is only planned one point of view character throughout the whole thing. Let's see… oh, I will be 'friending' everyone by Merrill (this is based on my own playthroughs… where I always seem to do this without really meaning to). I will do my best to bring in notes from the 'rivalry' aspect (and Merrill's friend), simply to try and give a fuller picture.

Long Author's note is long. But, welcome to the Champion's Tale.

Next up – Escape from Lothering.


	2. Chapter 1) Escape from Lothering

**Fereldan – Lothering – 9:30**

_Escape from Lothering_

* * *

_Despite his words, he is silent for a while, eyes closed._

"_You better not be asleep, dwarf," the Seeker hisses when she finally loses patience._

"_No, I'm trying to remember what Hawke told me," he explains. "I saw her briefly when she arrived in Kirkwall, but I didn't meet her properly until a year after that. I'm trying to remember all I can. You said you wanted everything, correct?"_

"…_Yes."_

"_Then sit and wait. This is a long tale. There are going to be lots of pauses to make sure I remember everything."_

"…_Fine…"_

"_Anyway, I think I remember now, so let's start. Everything began with the Blight that infected Fereldan. The great stand of the Fereldan army against the Darkspawn horde was to take place at Ostagar. It was a disaster. Betrayed by his trusted ally, King Cailan died, broken and gloryless, along with most of his men. The darkspawn ran unchecked, consuming the southlands as it made its way north. Lothering was one of the first casualties. Many innocents died as it burned…"_

* * *

Smoke and ashes choked the air as we ran. I kept a firm grip on Mother's hand as we ran. The hand not holding onto her was cutting through darkspawn that tried to get us. Mother was panting behind me, stumbling as we ran. She'd never been the athletic type, and the stress of recent years hadn't been kind to her health. The fact that she was also carrying a large, heavy bag filled with random crap didn't help matters at all.

Carv… Carver was behind us, mopping up the darkspawn I couldn't get as I dragged Mother to safety. Beth… Bethany was beside him, helping him with her fire magic. Carver had arrived just minutes ago, still tired from the run from Ostagar. Strangely, he wasn't complaining yet. Maybe the army had helped him grow up a little more. I'd be glad for that. This wasn't a situation for children. That was why I couldn't call them by my childhood nicknames for them. Perhaps that would ram it home that we were all in trouble.

Finally, we reached the top of a nearby hill and Bethany conjured up a fiery wall to buy us a little time to just breath.

"We've lost it all," Mother whispered, leaning against me as she stared at the ruin Lothering had become. The smoke from the burning buildings blotted out the sky and thinned the sunlight into a sickly and pale imitation. "Everything your father and I built… oh, Malcolm…"

"At least we're alive," I reminded her lightly, patting her shoulder. We'd barely managed to escape. I hoped the ones who'd left earlier had found safety. "And didn't you grab the important things?" Mother's bag was filled with things that she'd thought too important to leave behind. Some old toys, a few portraits, things like that.

"If only we'd run sooner," Bethany gasped out, bent over to try and get her breath better. When she regained her strength, she glared at Carver. "I wonder why we didn't."

"Why are you looking at me?" Carver snapped. He was pale with exhaustion and drenched in sweat. He leaned against a nearby rock to catch his breath. "I've been running since Ostagar!"

"You could've run faster."

"You try running through the Wilds with a bunch of screams behind you." He shuddered. "Maker, I can still hear them."

"Well, if you two have breath for arguing, surely you've got enough to run a little further," I interrupted the two. They looked at me. Bethany's face was begging me to tell her it would all be all right. Carver's was asking for a longer break, but already buckling down because he couldn't bear to be the weak one. "That fire won't hold up forever, you know."

"I'm just telling her to not make accusations," Carver pointed out. "I was expecting you all had gone ahead."

"Didn't think you'd take so long to get back," Bethany retorted. "Especially after Agrona said you'd survived."

"How did she get out ahead of me?" He looked contemplative. "I wonder if she found her friend."

"Bethany, recall I'd instructed you and Mother to leave before me, while I waited for Carver," I pointed out. Both of them winced at their names; they were used to me calling them 'Beth' and 'Carv'. "You two insisted on waiting with me."

"That's right," Mother confirmed, frowning stubbornly as she clung to my arm. "I wasn't sure if we'd be able to see each other again if we separated."

"So, let's get back to running for our lives, yes?"

"But where are we going?" Bethany asked. "We need to figure that out!"

The darkspawn are contained only by a wall of fire that's barely as tall as they are, and we're going to _keep_ talking? "Let's get away and then figure out where to go. Where it's safer."

"But…"

"We can go to Kirkwall," Mother suggested slowly.

"_That's_ our first choice?" Carver asked, incredulous. He had some more color in his face, so he was reverting to his default state of grumpy mabari.

"It's crawling with the worst sorts of people," I sighed. "Criminals, templars, angry nobles…"

"It's infamous for the hold the templars have on it," Bethany added worriedly.

"Yes, but we do have family there," Mother pointed out softly. "A house."

Money for needed bribes, given that Mother's family were nobles. "Let's say that's the plan for now, but alternatives should be considered," I suggested. "The fire is about to go out. I can tell."

"You can?" Bethany asked, surprised. She sighed. "You're a better mage. I can't even tell when my own spell is about to go out."

"…Bethany, it's called looking at the fire and seeing it grow smaller," I teased with a small smile. "Observation skills isn't a mage talent, you know."

"…Oh, oops." Bethany flushed from embarrassment. "Ah, here. I'll hold onto Mother. Why don't you and Carver go on ahead?"

"Yeah, you'll have a slower pace than me." I smiled down at Mother. My last growth spurt had put me a few inches taller than her, right around Father's height. "That okay, Mother?"

"Yes, Althea," Mother agreed, returning my smile with her own sad one. She hadn't smiled happily since Father died three years ago. "Don't rush into trouble, please."

"We'll try not to," I laughed off before taking Carver by the arm and dragging him ahead.

"Can't you just teleport us to Kirkwall or something?" Carver grumbled as we scouted ahead.

"Can't you just get some sense?" I retorted as I glanced around. There were sounds of metal in the distance, but I couldn't see anything nearby. "That's as impossible as bringing back the dead."

"I saw some mages disappear and reappear in different spots."

"Invisibility spell, Carver."

"Why the switch?"

"On?"

"My name?"

"Didn't you complain before you left about me still calling you 'Carv', even though you were eighteen now?" I 'helpfully' reminded him. That had played into my decision, too. I was getting tired of him hating me.

"Well, yes, but…" He shook his head. "Never mind."

"Forgetting then." I stopped and turned to see Bethany and Mother far behind us. "Head up the hill and check the immediate area. They're too far away."

"Since you asked so nicely," he grumbled, but obeyed. Not two seconds later, though, he called back, "we have company. Human company."

"You're kidding," I replied, turning to jog up next to him. As I crested the hill and saw the two people ahead, I continued, "You're not kidding."

The two people were a man and a woman fighting off darkspawn. The man was heavily armored, blood having turned the silver metal into a patchy and crimson mess, fending off the creatures with a sword and shield. The woman, who's red hair was apparent even at this distance, was cutting through her attackers with a giant greatsword, larger than the one Carver had on his back.

"They're not too bad," I commented as Carver and I continued to watch. I glanced behind me to see Bethany and Mother still catching up.

"That woman was at Ostagar," Carver murmured. "I recognize her hair."

A darkspawn snuck up on the man and managed to score a nasty hit on his arm. To add insult to injury, when the man dropped his weapons as he stumbled from the blow, the darkspawn kicked them away. "We should help."

"You sure?"

The darkspawn approached the now weaponless, helpless man. "Ye-"

"You will not have him!" I got interrupted by the woman's sudden declaration as she appeared out of nowhere to _tackle the darkspawn_ _threatening the man_. As Carver and I just stared in stunned awe, we watched her punch the creature into submission before snatching a nearby sword to decapitate it. Then, completely nonchalant, she hooked the man's fallen shield on her arm and put herself between the darkspawn and the man. "They will not have you." The wind carried her soft words over to me. "Not while I draw breath."

"As much as clapping would be appropriate, how about we help so that I can learn her name?" I suggested.

"Yeah, good plan," Carver agreed. "I'd never seen even a Warden punch a darkspawn."

"Wait, what's going on?" Bethany asked as she and Mother finally arrived at the hill.

"Mother, stay here," I requested. "We've some people to save!"

Carver and I charged ahead with our swords, catching some of the darkspawn by surprise. I groaned as I saw Bethany using her fireballs to incinerate the darkspawn. I knew it was her only weapon, but there were strangers around!

Thankfully, the darkspawn fell quickly. Mostly because of the fireballs, to be honest. "You two all right?" I asked, as I shook some of the blood off my sword before sheathing it at my hip. Bethany flanked me as Carver ran back to get Mother.

"Yes, we're fine," the woman replied, before returning her attention to the man. She almost seemed to be arguing with him.

"I'm glad." What were they arguing about? It was hard to tell, mostly because the man still had his back to me. "Oh, right. My name is Ha-"

The man turned at our approach and I immediately drew Bethany behind me at the sight of the flaming sword inscribed into the front of his armor. A templar…!

"Well, the Maker has a sense of humor," Bethany muttered. "We're running for our lives, trying to escape the Blight, and we find the one templar that didn't run."

"The Maker understands, Wesley," the woman was murmuring gently. "They saved us."

"…This is true," the man muttered. "But the mage is always an unknown, while the darkspawn are clear in their intent."

"Pretty sure the fireballs were going at the darkspawn, not you," I pointed out sarcastically. "Did I not see right or something?"

"Sis!" Bethany hissed, gripping my arm. "Let's not pull the nice templar's tail, shall we? Please?"

"That sounds wise," the woman agreed. "I'm Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley."

"I'm called Hawke," I greeted, keeping an eye on the templar. "This is my sister, Bethany. My younger brother, Carver, should be coming up the path with my mother, Leandra."

"Hawke's an unusual name."

"It's our _last_ name," Bethany explained. "Sis only lets Mother use her first name." With a name like 'Althea', who wouldn't?

"I see." Aveline nodded. "It's nice to meet you. We can go back to hating each other after this, yes?"

"Very well, dear," the templar muttered, reluctant but reasonable.

"The wrath of the templars is terrible indeed," I couldn't help but mock.

To my surprise, his response was to joke back. "More so their wives." He sent a gentle, amuse smile Aveline's way before returning his attention to me. "My duty dictates that I shall have to arrest Mistress Bethany, but my wife is correct. There is a greater danger, and my duty states that I see everyone through safely, just as I have others. An accord?"

"So long as you don't mind me protecting my litter sister afterwards." Still, I smiled. "Hey, I worked as the resident doctor, medicine woman, person around here. Let me bind up your arm."

"I… thank you."

As I pulled out some poultices and bandages from my pack, Carver and Mother joined us and Bethany did introductions in a far too cheerful voice. Little miss sunshine, Bethany.

"This is a bad wound," I mumbled as I went to work on his arm. His armor had held the arm together, but the damage was pretty damn extensive underneath the skin. "Even healing magic isn't going to fully fix it."

"Yes," he agreed reluctantly as he studied the wound. "I fear my sword arm is a loss."

"Then you'll have mine, dear," Aveline warmly reminded him. She was watching with calm, yet concerned, eyes. "As always."

"I know, dear. I merely wish I could support your strength."

"You two are reminding me of my parents," I muttered. I frowned as I noticed something… off about the wound. It was like it was poisoned. Shaking my head, I pulled out a couple of herbs that worked as antidotes and added them to the poultice. "So, what brings you two here? I don't recognize either of you."

"Neither of us are from here," the templar explained. "I heard of Ostagar and… well, I couldn't stay away. I've been assisting refugees as I moved south."

"Yes, bad luck, and judgment, led us here," Aveline muttered. I almost laughed as she sent her husband a pointed look at the word 'judgment'. He seemed to shrug it off, though. "Regardless, we move with you. North is cut off."

"Then we're trapped here," Carver noted worriedly. "The Wilds are to the south. That's no place to run! Not with the witches and the like."

"So, our choices are the darkspawn we knew exist or the superstitions that we do not?" I asked, before leading the way down the path. "Let's take our chances on the myths."

Bethany smiled. Carver grumbled. These were, unfortunately, rather typical of their responses to my decisions since Father died. Aveline nodded with a slight frown, taking her husband by the arm as she followed. Bethany got Carver moving shortly after. But one person did not join us.

I turned back as the others continued forward and noticed Mother hanging back, staring at the ruin again. "Mother," I called gently. She turned to look at me. "We need to get going."

"Yes, I know," she sighed, coming forward. She took my arm and leaned into me for reassurance. "I'm sorry, dear. It's just… Malcolm so loved it here."

Yes, he did. "He loves us more," I reminded her. "Besides, in a way, he's coming with us." The small box containing his ashes had been the first thing Mother had packed away, way back when we first heard of the Blight.

"That's true." She tightened her grip on me. "Okay. Lead the way, Althea. I'm sorry for being a burden."

"You can't help being a soft noble, Mama," I teased. She frowned, but smiled as she picked up the teasing. It always took her a minute. "Come on. They're going to start worrying."

* * *

There weren't a lot of darkspawn as we escaped. That was the first hint that the Maker was building up to kick us in the stomach. The second was how the ground rumbled and groaned as if it were in pain.

The third was the giant abomination with giant horns that came roaring over the hill, screaming its fury.

Aveline and I had somehow been the ones in front and, so, we were the ones who had to dodge the monster's initial charge. She'd tackled her husband to the side to get him out of the way. The twins and Mother were far behind, so they hadn't been in the path. So, surely, they were…

The monster shrieked again, loud enough to make the earth scream and groan in return. As my ears rung from the noise, I saw what had to be one of my worst nightmares come to life. That _monster_ was charging for the twins and Mother, who had just appeared in the clearing.

I didn't really think. It was threatening my family. _My family_. I had to protect them. A proper magic spell, one that fell within Chantry regulations, would take too long to prepare, and might not be enough.

But boiling blood took nothing more than a thought and a breath.

The creature roared in pain as I tapped into the power lying dormant in its blood. It made me sick to realize that I'd so easily used blood magic, so easily used the power in _another person's_ blood. Even if the ability was justified in this one case, the fact that I'd so easily done it showed that I had to be careful. I slipped once, so I could slip again.

Most blood mages went insane because they justified their use of other people's magic and let the demons tempt them. I had to take care not to follow their path, for the sake of those around me.

As the creature was distracted, I took a deep breath for concentration and called forth a bolt of lighting to strike its back. The monster screeched at the electricity. I had to fight the urge to hiss as pain echoed down my own arm. That was the one problem with magic. If you were strong in it, like me, you always had to be careful. Loose too much, and you were killing the very people you were trying to save with the aftershocks. Use too little, though, and you killed yourself with the backlash. Father had that problem and I'd inherited it.

I called up a shield as the creature whirled to slam me with a fist. It shattered on contact, unfortunately. I wasn't all that skilled in shields yet. I'd focused on the primal and elemental and healing spells. Shields were definitely next, though. Flying across a plain and slamming into a rock was _not_ fun.

As I slid down, the monster snatched me up and started squeezing. So, someone was trying to crush me. Cute, in the most painful way possible.

I couldn't think on that though, or the creature's sick grin as it slowly applied the pressure. Deep breath to focus. Deep breath to keep control. It hurt a lot as the monster was trying to crush my ribs, and my lungs with it. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Concentrate. Magic was my blood. Magic was my life.

As I exhaled, I breathed out magic. My hands glowed with it. The arm holding me was encased in it, turning it into ice. As the creature stilled, wondering what was going on, I summoned another burst of power and launched a fireball to crack its arm off and drop to the ground. As soon my feet hit solid ground, I called the earth's power to harden its legs into stone so that it couldn't move.

It roared and screamed and thrashed, trying to get away. But I wouldn't let it. _No one_ got away with threatening my family.

With my hands glowing, I just used raw magic to blast the creature. Magic existed in all things, but few could survive an encounter with _raw_ magic. Only mages could. That was what made us special.

It managed one last scream before the magic blew it apart. Blood rained down as the limbs crashed somewhere on the rocks.

I fell to my knees afterwards, focusing on breathing. Honestly, I was surprised I wasn't _dead_. Shaking my head, I glanced about to see that there were darkspawn corpses nearby. Why did they have regular darkspawn with that thing? No kill like overkill?

"Sister!" Carver raced over with the cry. Darkspawn blood splattered his face and clothes, but he pulled me up easily, showing only worry. "Are you all right?" I loved times like this. They reminded me that he didn't hate me.

"Better than that thing, at least," I joked. "Shame, I thought I was going to see Father."

"Don't joke about that!"

"Sis!" Bethany appeared on my other side. She took off her scarf to tie around a particularly bad wound on my arm. I took the chance to magically check my ribs. Bruised, but not cracked or broken. Stroke of luck right there. "Why didn't I learn healing magic?"

"Because you disliked how it wasn't fiery," I reminded her. I winced as she accidentally pulled the scarf a little too tight. Maker, I hurt.

"Althea!" Though I didn't see Mother before she snatched me in a hug, I knew it was her. She was the only one who called me by my first name. "I was so scared…!"

"Mother, can you hug my neck?" I requested breathlessly. Her arms were around my chest. "You're on the bruises."

"Oh! Sorry."

Their obvious worry was making it hard for me in a different way, too. There was blood on the ground and I was tempted to use it to heal my wounds. But I would not. I would not, could not, use blood other than my own. I would be betraying Father's trust if I did.

"I have your sword." Aveline's gentle, but no nonsense voice grounded me back outside my thoughts. She was in front of me, staring curiously. The templar was resting on a nearby rock; he looked ill. "Perhaps I should hold onto it, though. It looks like you're only steady because of your family."

"You should see the other guy," I quipped.

"I did." She was giving me a measuring look. "There were some ogres at Ostagar. One killed the King by crushing him. I was certain we were all dead."

"I guess I'm good at killing things."

"I've learned most mages are." She was still staring. "How did you get him to stop that initial attack?"

"Why do you think I did?" I asked, masking panic with curiousity.

"Just a feeling. Perhaps it's wrong." She passed me my sword and glanced to the side. "More are coming."

What did we do to piss off the Maker? "Okay, twins, you're going to need to let go of me unless you plan on using me as a weapon."

"Must you joke at a time like this?" Bethany complained.

"What better time?" Carver defended sarcastically. "We're all about to die."

"We are _not_," I snapped. "I didn't kill that ogre just to die to the mob that picks up its messes!"

"Work on the pep talks another time," Aveline suggested. "Here they-!"

A dragon's roar startled all of us into silence. I looked up as it launched itself into the sky. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying as it blasted the darkspawn with fire and wind.

"Another dragon?" Carver gasped. He automatically grabbed Mother and Bethany and dragged them closer to the templar to get their backs to a wall. "Or is it the same one that saved us at Ostagar?" I was more curious about what a dragon was doing here in the first place.

Considering how the dragon transformed into a woman with armor that had matched the scales and hair swept up to resemble the dragon's horns, I wasn't sure I _wanted_ to know. "Well, well," she murmured as she slowly walked towards us, casually dragging and dropping a darkspawn corpse. The devastation she'd left choked the air even more with smoke. It made it difficult to see, but I forced myself to not flinch. "What do we have here?"

"Just some people who are grateful to not be dead," I replied lightly.

"Is that so?" She chuckled. "It used to be that we never got visitors to the Wilds. Now, they seem to come in _hordes_!"

"Am I the only one thinking that talking to her isn't a good idea?" I heard Aveline mutter from somewhere behind me.

She wasn't the only one, but I wasn't inclined to ignore her. She was dangerous. "Nice trick," I commented. "How can you turn into a dragon like that?"

"Perhaps I _am_ a dragon who hides as an old woman?" the woman laughed before growing somber and turning to look out over the destroyed lands. "If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you're heading the wrong way."

She began walking away, only to stop at Carver's yelp. "You can't just leave us here!" he protested.

"I think she can do whatever she wants," I muttered.

"Very true, my young mage," the woman murmured. She was suddenly in my face. I forced myself to not flinch and to look her straight in the eye. Her gold eyes didn't look human. "I spotted a curious sight as I ensured the Wardens made it out of here safely. A mighty ogre vanquished. Who could perform such a feat, I wondered. My wonderings led me here and to you. My curiousity is sated and you are safe for the moment. Is that not enough?"

"I wouldn't mind learning that trick," I replied. "It looks useful."

"I daresay it is. Such a clever tongue for a mage." She continued peering into my face, as if searching for something. "Tell me, how do you intend to outrun the Blight?"

"We plan of going to Kirkwall," Bethany answered weakly. My focus was entirely on the woman, so I hoped she was still behind me. "In the Free Marches."

"Such a far away place. So far, indeed, to simply flee the darkspawn. Will your king not miss you?"

"From what I've heard, I'd think he'd miss his life more," I snarked. "But, if it's too far to run, what would you suggest? I hear the Deep Roads are open."

To my surprise, she laughed outright. "Oh, you, I like!" Her laughter died as she continued staring at me. "Flung into the darkspawn you fight, and the world shapes before you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are akin to the Dragon Queen and Wolf Commander, my dear hawk," she whispered as she caressed my face. "But, until you show yourself, no one will know."

"I'm not fond of standing in the light," I retorted quietly. "I just want to protect my family."

"Yet, if others come into your care, you'll welcome them without complaint." She chuckled and stepped back. Her eyes seemed to glow and I wasn't quite sure if her next words were said aloud, or just in my head. "There are those who _struggle_ against destiny, and yet only achieve an early grave. There are those who _flee_ destiny, only to have it swallow them whole. Then, there are those who _embrace_ destiny and do not show their fear. These are the people who will change the world _forever_." She smiled, but it wasn't a comforting one. "You and I both know which one you are, Lady Hawke." She turned away from me at last. "Then again, is it fate or chance? I can never decide."

"I'm afraid you're not making much sense."

"That's fine, for now." She turned back to me. "It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet."

"Anything you can do would be appreciated."

"Should we trust her?" Carver asked. He came to stand beside me to whisper in my ear. "Aveline has her husband and Mother behind her. He's not looking good."

"Then do we have a choice?" I asked.

"We don't even know who she is," Bethany pointed out as she came up on my other side.

"She's the Witch of the Wilds," Aveline answered from behind me. "She kidnaps children and-"

"Oh, please," the Witch interrupted, annoyed. "As if I didn't have anything better to do."

"Like save civilians who might be able to do you a favor?" I asked dryly.

"Precisely." She smiled. "I am Flemeth. Also Asha'bellanar, an old hag who talks to much."

"Sounds like you've a child like Carver." I held back a laugh as Carver's indignant shout.

"I do indeed, though it was a templar king who'd called me that." Templars could become kings? "Regardless, here is my proposal. There is a group of Dalish in Sundermount, or soon there shall be there." So, she could see the future? "If you would deliver something for me, then I shall deliver _you_ to a ship in Gwaren."

"Just a delivery for saving our lives?" I asked, incredulous.

"Trust me, should the worst scenario occur, the debt will be more than equal." She technically smiled, but it looked too cold and didn't reach her eyes. "I have an appointment with a Chessmaster Queen. Thus, I cannot make the delivery myself, despite its importance. I _must _stay here."

"A must or a want?"

"Must they be different?"

"Perhaps not for you."

"Perhaps, indeed." She came forward to place an amulet in my hand. "Deliver this to Keeper Marethari and follow her instructions. We shall be equal should you do this."

"Very well." I slipped it into my pocket. "So, when do we leave?"

"After we deal with one last thing." She moved past me, towards Aveline, Mother, and the templar. Carver hadn't been kidding; he was starting to resemble a corpse, despite his moving and breathing.

"No, stay away from him!" Aveline snapped, drawing her sword on Flemeth. "I won't let you do anything!"

"There is nothing I _can_ do," Flemeth murmured. She actually looked sad. "What has been done to your husband is already in his blood."

"Has he been poisoned?" I asked. "I thought there was something off. I put some herbs that I use for antidotes in with the poultice."

"I have never known a simple herb to erase the Taint."

...You have _got_ to be kidding me. "So, he's Tainted? And it's of the permanent sort?" I didn't know much about these things. Maybe there was a temporary one?

Unfortunately, Flemeth nodded her head. "The Taint never has mercy. The only 'cure' is to become a Grey Warden."

"They all died in Ostagar," Aveline whispered forlornly, gently taking her husband's hand. She kept a firm grip on her sword, though.

"Not all," I corrected. "A few showed up in Lothering after Ostagar. I met one named Agrona."

"Ah, the future commander," Flemeth murmured with a smile. "I do so hope she lives up to my expectations. They shall be glorious." Come again? "Regardless, there are three survivors, but they are far beyond our reach, even if they knew how to perform the Joining. Two are in Orzammar, stuck in their politics, and Agrona is in the Tower, soon to learn just how much the Taint has changed her."

"There must be something we can do!" Bethany insisted. She was clinging to Mother, who was looking at Aveline in sympathy.

"Yeah, we can kill him," Carver answered. When she glared, he glared right back. "It's what we did at Ostagar. The Wardens said only the Commander could approve recruits, or those he deemed trustworthy. They also mentioned it wasn't a mercy and that they only took those they thought would survive the life."

"You can't…!" Aveline protested.

"Aveline, my dear," the templar whispered, tugging her hand. "Please."

"I…" Aveline looked so heartbroken. "Wesley, don't ask…"

I knelt down and used some healing magic. I could get the wound still on his arm, but the dark fire in his blood was beyond my skill. "This will kill slowly," I whispered, turning towards Aveline. "I… Aveline, he's going to die no matter what."

"…All right." She took a shuddering breath. It sounded almost like a sob. "All right."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"…No, I will." She smiled slightly at me. "Thanks, though."

Her husband passed her a small knife and smiled warmly when she took it. "I love you, Aveline," he whispered. I stood up and tried to get out of earshot. I shouldn't eavesdrop. "I have never regretted marrying you. I know you'll be strong. But, be happy too. For my sake."

"And I love you." Couldn't move fast enough to be polite. "Always."

I heard a gasp of pain, followed by a last breath. When Aveline stood, her husband was dead and she was cradling the bloody knife in her hands. Mother immediately went over to wrap her arm around Aveline's shoulder. Bethany was crying. Carver, frowning, provided her a shoulder to hide her tears in.

"Without an end, there can be no peace," Flemeth said wisely, yet softly. "Come, there is still much to do." She led the way away from the corpse. "You have a hard path ahead."

As we walked, I tossed a fireball over my shoulder to burn the corpse. We burned our dead and Wesley deserved as much of a funeral as we could manage.

The flames at my back felt like I was burning my bridges. I was set on my path, whether I liked it or not.

I hoped I wouldn't regret it.

* * *

Author's Note: Prologue chapters might be out quickly because they were already more than half written… a year or so ago. Also, I'm taking more... liberties with the script.

Aveline's introductory scene has to be one of the most _badass_ ways to introduce a character ever. Period. It's wonderfully done and written. Everything about her character is established in a few short minutes.

…Also, must point out, that I like the name 'Althea', though I'm not sure I like the character in mythology that has that name. Hawke, however, hates her first name, hence the last name basis with… everyone. The name is possible tied to the Greek word 'althos' (I do NOT have a Greek type on my keyboard) which means 'healing'.

Flemeth's thing about people and destiny comes from the trailer. It's... powerful.

No, it's not a typo, either, that Hawke doesn't refer to Wesley by name until the end. I thought it… fitting.

Yes, Hawke is a blood mage. Obviously, I'm playing introductory Hawke here as someone a bit more powerful than the introductory Hawke in the game. But yes, she is a blood mage. The circumstances as to why will be revealed in a later chapter. She's also very powerful, hinted at during a chapter in Awakening.

Next Chapter - Kirkwall, the chained prison


	3. Chapter 2) Kirkwall, the Chained Prisons

**Free Marches – Kirkwall – 9:30**

_Kirkwall, the Chained Prison_

* * *

"_She was a blood mage…!" the Seeker gasps. "No wonder she was capable of infiltrating and gaining so much power!"_

"_Do you want me to tell the story or do you just want to make false assumptions?" the dwarf asks. Despite his light tone, his posture is stiff and angry._

"_I…" She huffs. "Fine. But what is with Flemeth?"_

"_I thought that might catch your attention."_

"_It's ludicrous. A myth swooped out of the Wilds to save the Champion?"_

"_Swooping is bad, Seeker," he nonchalantly informs her. "But if you're so disbelieving, do you want me to recite the Wardens' Tale?"_

"_No," she refuses quickly. "Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised, knowing their tale as I do."_

"_Shame. I like my version." _

_She gives him a withering glare. "Did she send someone with the Champion?"_

"_Not in the manner you're thinking."_

"_Is that so?" She is silent, still glaring. "Continue. But if you're going to tell me that they flew to Kirkwall on a dragon…"_

"_No, but I should add that to my next telling," he laughs. "No, she just got them to Gwaren, just as she said she would. From there, they grabbed a ship to the Free Marches. To Kirkwall, the city of chains. It was once a Tevinter outpost, known for strange rituals and horrific conditions for the slaves. Now, it's a free city, but I use the word loosely."_

* * *

"Great view they give us," Carver grumbled as the ship slowly rocked in the water. "Giant black cliffs with giant, ugly statues. Who's idea was it to make statues like that?"

I looked up to see what he was talking about. The two crying and screaming statues glimmered in the sunlight. Their hands covered their faces and held the chains that Kirkwall could pull up to provide a protective net around the port. They were remarkably life-like, as if they could start moving at any moment. "Someone who wanted to make a statement," I murmured in answer.

"And what statement is that?"

"Abandon hope, all ye who enter."

Carver choked on a laugh and started coughing. I reached around to pat him on the back. Bethany, who hadn't taken well to the sea, was asleep in my lap, so I couldn't move much. The three of us were sitting against the ship's mast. Mother was with Aveline by the wall. Her arm was around the newly widowed woman's shoulder, providing comfort. Mother had attached herself to Aveline after Wesley's death, since she was the only one of us who had _any_ idea what Aveline was going through. The two weeks of being crammed together like rats had given Mother plenty of time to help Aveline grieve.

"Ugh, what is this ill feeling?" Bethany mumbled as she slowly stirred awake.

"Seasick again?" Carver teased. His voice was raspy, but otherwise he was fine.

"No, it's not nausea. And don't tease. You got just as sick when those storms hit."

"I did not."

"The Veil is unnaturally thin here," I noted softly, interrupting the two. "No wonder the Templars are so strict here. It's entirely possible with the Veil as thin as this that mages are possessed without even knowing what happened." Flames, it could even be that non-mages could be possessed here.

"Father mentioned once that Kirkwall had a distressingly high failure rate for their Harrowing," Bethany whispered. "Maybe that's why."

"Will you two be all right?" Carver asked.

"Thanks to Father's teachings, I'm sure we'll be fine," I reassured. "Bethany and I are nice and disciplined."

"…That word brings back so many memories." Carver shuddered. "Father was big on it."

"Maybe he knew we'd end up in Kirkwall one of these days," Bethany mumbled, finally sitting up. "We _are_ here, right?"

"It's just a matter of docking, Bethany," I answered. "That is, if they'll let us. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't." The horizon was bloated with bobbing ships. "Not at all."

* * *

Shockingly, they _did_ let us dock, but they weren't letting us inside the city. At least, that was what the mob outside kept screaming about.

"They can't do that," Aveline hissed once we'd heard what was going on. "We all need the safety."

"If they don't have room, then there's nothing to be done," I pointed out. I hated it, but I couldn't do anything. I was helpless. "Look, we have a possible way inside that they don't. Let's go find someone."

"All right."

"Carver, Bethany?" I called back. They were making sure Mother didn't get separated from the rest of us in the crowd.

"Here," Carver answered, waving an arm. The crush had pushed the three of them away from Aveline and me. "We're going to the side to get some space!"

"Aveline and I are going to look for someone to talk to," I shouted back. "Be back in a second."

Thankfully, Aveline was more intimidating than me, despite being a little bit shorter. She got us through the crowd easily, into an open area where I could see templars mill about cautiously, some mages hiding in the corridors, and a small group of people yelling at an annoyed man in armor. Looked like we found our guy.

"I know those people," Aveline suddenly hissed. "They're _deserters_."

"From Ostagar?" I asked.

"Yes. They fled when it started getting tough. I remember the pictures that circulated through the camp. "

"Well, unfortunately, I don't think killing them would be appreciated." Even if it might be fun.

"That guard might." She sighed heavily. "But it would not be legal."

I was _not_ going to point out that, technically speaking, she was breaking the law just by not reporting me. "Okay, well, let's just jump in and see whether this guard will be receptive to us. After all, we technically have a good excuse for coming here that doesn't involve just running."

"Very well." Aveline kept a firm grip on the sword at her side, but she didn't draw it as we approached the yelling me.

"I've told you this over a hundred times," the guard snapped at them as Aveline and I got within hearing. "The city is full!"

"Is that so?" I asked, entering the conversation. They were startled, so I kept talking. "No room for pretty people?"

The guard actually gave me a once-over. I _had_ been joking. "As lovely as you are, miss, we cannot let people in at this time. We're working on moving you all to other cities, but it will take some time."

"Actually, my uncle lives here," I explained. "That's why we chose Kirkwall. Is it against the law for us to come and visit him?"

"Uncle?" He looked intrigued. "Perhaps if he's willing to 'vouch', I can let you in." I got the feeling he was talking more about bribing than anything. "What's his name?"

"Gamlen Amell."

"Ah, I know him." I got the feeling he wished he didn't. "Well, surely he's not so much of an ass that he'd leave his own family stuck here. I'll send someone to find him."

"My thanks."

"Wait, you're going to let them in?!" one of the yellers screeched. "We've been here for three days!"

"Strange, considering the armor you're wearing," Aveline pointed out, with all the calm of a building storm. "Fereldan army, stationed at Ostagar. Yet, here you are, and have been for a while."

"I… er…"

"Perhaps you nice men can shut up and make yourselves unnoticeable," I added with a blatantly false smile. "After all, we _are_ Fereldan and _surely_ you know how… intolerable desertion is in Fereldan, right? It's a betrayal. And I'm already very, very frustrated."

"Um… well… er…" Like beaten rats, the men slunk off into the corners.

"I'll see about getting you a blanket and some food," the guard said as soon as they disappeared. "As thanks for getting rid of them."

"That'll be wonderful," I replied. "Aveline, let's get Mother and the twins."

"Sure," she agreed, smiling. "That was fun."

"Yeah, it was. Maybe Kirkwall won't be so bad." Surely, it wouldn't be a long wait.

* * *

"It's been _three days_," Carver growled during one morning. I ignored him as I helped straighten the blanket around Mother's shoulders. The guard had managed to get us three blankets. Mother got her own and I'd insisted the twins at least share one. Aveline and I had shared the other, when we decided we actually needed it.

"How much longer?" Bethany asked quietly as she slowly munched on the fruit the guards had also provided for us. They liked us. We were quiet, made sure to stay out of the way, and willing to assist if needed. "Is he really coming?"

"I'm sure he is," Mother reassured, sending a thankful smile my way. She had absolute faith in her younger brother. "It's just taking a while."

"Three days," Carver repeated.

"Considering how hectic this city seems to be, it might take longer," Aveline pointed out. "He's got to find the right people to bribe."

Satisfied that Mother was taken care of, I straightened, stretched, and looked around. As I did, I happened to catch a glimpse of a man that looked like some cross between Mother and Carver. "Is that him?" I asked, gesturing to the man. Mother looked where I'd pointed, smiled, and lurched to her feet to greet the man. "I guess that's our man." Shrugging, I'd led the way over. This was my first time actually meeting my uncle, having never left Fereldan before. As I got closer, I noticed the strong resemblance between him and Carver. But while Carver reminded me of a temperamental mabari, Uncle Gamlen just made me think of an abused street mutt. The kind that gave you good luck if you fed them, but you risked getting mauled in doing so.

Still, Mother was ecstatic to see him, enveloping him in a warm hug as soon as she could. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you, Gamlen," she breathed.

"Leandra?" he greeted awkwardly, returning the hug hesitantly. "Damn, the years haven't been kind to you."

"Very funny." She made a face at him. I was distinctly reminded of Bethany and Carver. Did they argue as much? I hoped they didn't. "Gamlen, you've never formally met your nieces and nephew, have you?"

"Just the pictures and letters," he confirmed, nodding a greeting at us. Bethany and Carver awkwardly waved. Carver was rarely good with 'hellos' and Bethany was wary around strangers, even if this one was related to us.

I smiled in response. "Hello, Uncle Gamlen," I said. "It's nice to finally meet you. Oh, the red-haired woman is Aveline. She's a friend." Aveline nodded a greeting, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Right." Uncle Gamlen sighed. "Well, this is a little awkward, but I'm seeing what I can do."

"What's wrong?" Mother asked. "Did something happen to the fortune?"

"It's… uh… gone?" That _had_ to be a good story.

"Gone? How?"

"It's a long story, and not one for here. The point is that I'm working on getting you all in still."

"If it's too much trouble, Uncle, can you make sure to get Mother and the twins in?" I requested, breaking back into the conversation.

"We're staying together," Mother protested.

"I'd prefer that, but if that's impossible, then I want you three in with a roof over your heads first." I turned to smile at Aveline and noted Bethany looked worried and Carver looked slighted. "Maybe we could pose as mercenaries for a bit or something, Aveline."

"So long as it's legitimate," Aveline sighed. "Please."

"You do realize I try to stay out of the light, right?"

"Actually, the mercenary thing is in line with what I have planned," Uncle Gamlen revealed. He motioned for all of us to scrunch together, so that he could talk quieter. "Look. I know a mercenary who has the money to get you in. His name's Meeran. I've told him about you and he's agreed to talk. If he's impressed, he'll pay your way in and you'll work it off throughout a year."

"I trust you used discretion?" I asked pleasantly as Mother looked surprised, Bethany grimaced, Carver grinned, and Aveline nodded. "About a certain talent Bethany and I share?"

"I'm not _that_ much of an idiot," he snapped. "No, they don't know you two are… you know. They'll be suspicious, but I can't help that. Rumors have been around for years and Leandra didn't help matters with her running off with an apostate." …That had _better_ not be an insult to Father. He was the best and I would not- "Leandra, what's wrong? I know it's not what you expected, but you can't be complaining about the mercenaries, right?"

"No, it's not that, exactly," Mother began. Her surprise had faded to worry. "It's just that Malcolm was a mercenary, so I'm… well, it's possible that people might…"

"Recognize us?" I finished for her, once I caught her line of thought. She nodded and I sighed. Father _had_ been a mercenary, before getting caught by the templars here and getting dragged to the Gallows. He also had a tendency to make an impression and I looked a lot like him. "We'll just have to be extra careful. This is our best bet to head inside." It wasn't like I was as talented as him or anything. Father had been all but invincible before he died. I… well, obviously, I wasn't.

"Ah, he's just come into the courtyard," Uncle Gamlen noted. I turned around to see someone in armor arrive. "He leads the Red Irons. Go on."

"Yes, yes." Somehow, I'd ended up being the one people followed. Why was that? It wasn't like I was the 'leader' or anything.

Regardless, no one moved until I did, so I ended up being the first one to greet the mercenary. "My uncle called you 'Meeran'?" I used as my greeting.

"So you must be Gamlen's eldest niece," he replied. He eyed at a certain part of me that was _definitely_ not my eyes. "Nice."

"I know I'm here to ask for a job, but, please, eyes are up here."

"Yeah, yeah." He took on a serious look. "Gamlen talked up a storm about you. He'd better not be blowing more smoke out of his ass."

"Have you been friends with him long?" I asked as I heard Carver snicker and mention that he _adored_ how Meeran talked. Bethany started scolding him. Ignoring them now.

"The nobles will shit gold before I'm friends with him." Oh, what a wonderful opinion. "He cheated one of my men during a gambling. We talked it out and I agreed to ignore it if you turn out well."

"I see." Uncle Gamlen, you were _not_ making a very good impression. "Might I hear a little more about you and your group? The Red Iron?"

"Right, you're not a Marcher like your uncle." He sighed, but didn't seem too annoyed. I heard Aveline get the twins back under control behind me. She did it with remarkable speed. Maybe I should have her play peacekeeper from now on. "The Red Iron is well known around these parts. We pick who we work for and keep our noses clean. Nothing more unsavory than an assassination attempt. No slaving. No smuggling."

"So, mostly legal."

"Until someone messes with us. Then, I use my contacts and they let us have free reign. We guard our own."

"And you're willing to use some of that money to get us in?"

"If you're half as good as your uncle was saying, I'll be getting my money's worth. Besides, we're paid well."

Well, they were legal, they were work, and, more importantly, there were no comments about the 'mercenary mage who had ended up being an apostate'. "I think I can agree to work with you." I glanced at the others. "What do you say?"

"Makes sense," Aveline said.

"I like them," Carver happily chimed in.

"If we have to," Bethany mumbled. She was the only one not happy with the prospect."

"Then we're all clear?" Meeran asked. "Good. You're hired."

"What? No task?" I asked, incredulous. "Just a look and a talk?"

"I've been in the business a long time," he explained. "I can tell what I need from a glance and a conversation. If I'm wrong, well, I'll figure out some other way to get the money out of you."

"Did you intend for that to sound as creepy as it did?"

"My business." He grinned. "I'll add the names to the roster. If you do well, you'll get bonuses." He nodded a dismissal. "Just wait. Shouldn't be too long to get the guards moving."

"I'm going to get Uncle Gamlen and Mother," I told the twins and Aveline. "Please, don't kill anyone."

"I won't," Carver promised with a grin. "This looks like fun!"

"I'm glad one of us is happy," Bethany grumbled, hiding behind him. "Just… just keep them away from me."

"Don't worry, Bethany," Aveline reassured. "If they mess with you, just throw me at them. I'll… correct their world-view." And probably give them some new holes.

Shaking my head, I walked over to where Mother was talking to her little brother. Uncle Gamlen noticed me first and came over to greet me. "Well?" he asked.

"It's all settled," I replied. "Your debt will be paid off and we'll get in."

"Um… er…"

"So, is everything all right?" Mother asked as she approached. She still had the blanket around her shoulders.

"Was there any doubt?" I teased her. "Don't worry, Mother. We're going to all be all right."

"Sister!" I glanced behind to see Carver waving at us. "Meeran's calling!" he shouted.

"Be right there," I yelled back. I took Mother by the hand. "Come on! Let's see what this city has in store!"

* * *

Author's Note: Codex reveals numerous things about Kirkwall. One of the biggest being that the Veil is unnaturally thin there, for one, making it _incredibly_ hard to be a sane mage there. Kirkwall's Gallows, therefore, have a very high failing rate for the Harrowing. Some other things revealed are that entire sections of the town are constructed into sigils for blood magic rituals, and there's quite possibly entire lakes of blood beneath the surface that haven't dried yet. Demons are actively attracted to the location, which can lead to the possession of non-mages due to too much competition for the mages. All of this, and that's not accounting for the corrupting presence of a certain DLC character. In all likelihood, Kirkwall's where the magisters attempted to enter the Black City! Not everyday that your main setting is an Eldritch Location (that isn't specifically a horror/suspense game).

The small group that, in the game, you kill to impress the guards are 'named' deserters, if I'm remembering correctly. Small wonder what they deserted from.

Malcolm Hawke's backstory is one that… varies depending on whether you look at the codex or the in-game dialogue. Of course, even then, we only get Free Marches and on, and _nothing_ from before then. My interpretation is a melding between the two: he was a Circle Mage who'd escaped and became a mercenary. He went into Kirkwall's Gallows after revealing himself as a mage to save someone and, after some time, escaped, leaving with Leandra.

Okay, I hinted at this in Hawke's 'introspection scene' during the last chapter of Wardens' Tale: Awakening, but she has a bit of an inferiority complex with her father. Yes, Hawke, who's kinda the ace in game, has an inferiority complex. Had to do _something_ to make her more believable!

Also… in game, Gamlen did blab about the mage thing to your prospective client. I think that's utterly idiotic. …Okay, it's also completely within his act I character too, but… I'm trying to make him a little more sympathetic/likable. Gamlen's a character I didn't like until the last half of Act II, mostly for a… remarkably well-done scene after a tragedy.

…I always seem to have long author notes towards the beginning of stories, don't I?

Next Chapter – Tranquil Patrols. This will not be up as quickly as the previous ones have been. I'm going to be out of town. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 3) Tranquil Patrols

**Free Marches – Kirkwall – 9:31**

_Tranquil Patrols_

* * *

_He sighs as he remembers those words. He had happened to be near the Gallows on business when he'd heard them. He'd been intrigued by those words and had later been surprised that the woman who'd said them ended up being the same woman his spy had directed him to as a business partner._

"_So, she just happened to join the Red Irons?" the Seeker asks. She had stood during his telling and is now pacing. "Just like that?"_

"_You met her," he reminds. "Hawke had a knack of exuding confidence, even when she didn't feel it." He silently adds that she also had a knack of making someone feel inadequate. Even he fell victim. Then he had saw her training and realized her skills were all hard earned and the mask she wore was one forced upon her._

"_Yes, I suppose." She keeps pacing. "Go on. Continue."_

"_Well, I could tell you all the hearsay I'd heard about the Red Iron jobs, but I'm sure you've already done extensive investigation in all of that." The only hint that his is right is the slight pause in her otherwise steady movements. "So, summary. Blight ended in Fereldan. Good for them! Fereldan suddenly became a political powerhouse, and keeps getting stronger. Also, good for them."_

"_You're just skimming."_

"_You said you didn't want the Wardens' Tale. Change your mind?" _

"_No, that is all right."_

"_Fine, fine." He sighs and shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. "Let's see… Well, the end of the Blight meant there was one last surge of refugees somewhere around eight or nine months after the Archdemon's death, mostly of people who'd learned that there was just no salvaging their lives back in Fereldan. The Qunari suddenly washed up onto the shores of Kirkwall, and were gifted a compound to keep them in one place. Soon afterwards, trouble with the mages began. Knight Commander Meredith had made her templars very powerful, to the point that First Enchanter Orsino worried about the safety of his charges. But that's not the most important thing that happened that year."_

"_Is that so?" She finally stops pacing to stare. "What was?"_

"_Simple." He grins. "I finally met Hawke."_

* * *

I'd had to deal with quite a few hardheaded people in my lifetime, but none were so stubbornly prideful as Bartrand Tethras.

"You make him understand!" Carver snapped to me after a long round of arguing in the Merchant's Guild of Hightown. "We're running from _your_ bloody templars."

"Sure, say it louder, if you would," I retorted as Bethany whimpered and gripped my arm tight enough to bruise in sudden fear. She'd already tried to appealing to reason and was now being quiet. "I don't think they heard you in the Anderfels!" I sighed. "Besides, we're getting nowhere with the whole 'fist in face' tactic."

"You're getting nowhere, period," Bartrand snapped. "You're too late. Everything's settled."

"Unlike your guards, though, we _have_ fought darkspawn."

"Bah, I've got no proof of that. Just some wild rumors, like all the others." He stormed off with one parting blow. "Find another meal ticket."

"Well, back to waiting for someone to turn us in," Carver grumbled as Bartrand disappeared into a building.

"Relax," I cooed sardonically. "The templars are 'mine'."

"No, they're _mine_," Bethany pointed out sourly. "You hide better."

Carver winced as we threw his words back at him. "Maker, that was aloud, wasn't it?" he groaned. "Damn it. I'm turning into Gamlen." He paused suddenly, like a thought had struck him. "Hey, our uncle knows some people."

"Wait, we're relying on _him_?" Bethany sighed. "Maker, save us. But we really do need the coin. We've nothing to prevent someone from selling us out, short of rampant _murder_."

"We're running out of options," I mumbled. The trouble was that Uncle Gamlen only seemed to know people who hated him. "We can try his bullshit, but let's discuss other options." Right then, someone bumped into me. I almost didn't pay it mind, but then I realized that something was missing. "My coinpurse…?"

"Did he just steal…?!" Carver began, outraged.

"Carver, you and Bethany get home with your _own_ coinpurses," I ordered. "I'll go after him."

Thankfully, the two of them obeyed and I took off after the thief. I was worried I would lose him, but then something unexpected happened. The sound of a crossbow preceeded an arrow flying through the wall and pinning the thief to the outside wall of a nearby building. I was impressed by the aim; the shoulder was a hard place to hit.

"I know a guy who was so good that he could pick your pocket just by smiling," someone scoffed. It took a second to realize it was the dwarf casually sauntering up to the terrified thief. The crossbow on his back was incredibly odd. "You don't have the class to run around in Hightown, much less the Merchant's Guild." He punched the thief in the face and pried my coin purse out of his hands before removing the arrow. As the thief slumped to the ground, and was glared at by a passing templar with shoulder-length blonde hair, the dwarf started to walk my way.

I noted that, in addition to being a badass who liked to talk, the dwarf was rich, based on the clothes he wore, and kindhearted, based on the fact that he tossed me back my coin-purse without even checking for anything valuable. I hooked it back on my belt and checked to make sure my elbow-length gloves were in place after that pickpocket crashed into me. I couldn't stand it if they fell off. Too many questions would be asked, most likely ones I wouldn't want to answer.

"Varric Tethras is the name," he introduced, casually spinning his bolt in one hand. "How do you do?"

"I take it you're fond of dramatic entrances," I replied lightly. "My thanks."

"Take it as an apology for my older brother's pigheadedness."

Tethras. Of course they were related. But to be _brothers_? "Not much of a resemblance."

"Yeah, I know. I got all the good-looking. So sad for him." He sighed dramatically. "Also, I got whatever it is that lets me know a good opportunity when it hits me in the jaw."

"Is that a fact?"

"Quite. I think it has to do with how he got all the pride, and I got the practicality. I'm quite willing to admit we need someone like you."

Like me? "And, thus, you have a way to convince your brother to hire my family on?"

"We don't need another hireling. Another one and we're all going to be tearing our hair out in annoyance. What we need is a partner."

"Partner?"

"Yes, someone to help fund the expedition. Batrand's aged thirty years trying to figure it out. It's expensive. But if _someone_ happened to invest fifty sovereigns… well, with me to vouch, it's an offer he just can't refuse."

"You're sticking your neck out quite a way for a stranger." Had I even given him my name? "And 'partner' implies a splitting of profits, which your brother doesn't seem likely to do."

"He's not stupid, thankfully. Better to split profits than have ten thousand darkspawn between you and the exit while stuck in an abandoned thaig that no one remembers. As for me, I'd rather have someone of your reputation down with us than to go down unprepared." Reputation?

"So, how do I raise the money?" I asked, crossing my arms to give him a stern look. "If I knew that, I wouldn't have to be working for him."

"That's where _I_ come in." He grinned charmingly. "I handle the information network for my brother, you see." So, he was a spy? "I can find all sorts of jobs. The problem is that I need someone who can take them. Someone with obvious skill."

"And you think that's me?"

"Red Irons are picky, yet you not only survived a year with them, you thrived." He shrugged. "The name 'Hawke' is on many a rumor and gossip."

"Oh, joy." So much for blending in and staying out of trouble. A stranger knew my name without me giving it.

"You sound so thrilled." He had the gall to laugh. "So, what do you say?"

Well, it wasn't like I had anything better planned. "We'll try it your way," I told him. "Somehow, I got the feeling just agreeing would be a lot easier."

"Well, it would prevent me from having to go to plan B, which is a _lot _messier." He held out his hand and I bent slightly to shake it more firmly. "All right then, Hawke. I have to calm my brother down to make sure he doesn't insult the wrong people again." The way he said it hinted that, if not for him, his brother would've long been _dead_. "Meet me at the Hanged Man in a couple of hours?"

"That works for me." I smiled at last. "Thank you."

"Hey, if this works, we're _all_ going to be rich." He sauntered off and I sighed and stretched. Perhaps now would be a good time to check in with Aveline?

* * *

Aveline had gotten lucky and landed a job with the guard, so I made my way to the Keep and wandered to the side rooms that marked the Barracks.

"Hawke," one of them called. I wasn't sure who the short-haired brunette was, but most of the guards knew me because of Aveline. "Aveline said that you're trying to do business with Bartrand. Be careful. He's a son of a bitch." Now how did Aveline learn about… oh, I knew how. Damn it.

"He's not cute enough to be a puppy," I countered. The guard laughed in reply. "Seriously, have you _seen_ him?"

"From across the square and that was too much!"

"Brennan, you're supposed to be on patrol, not talking to civilians," another guard scolded. I vaguely knew the brown-haired man with sideburns, mostly as someone who'd I'd seen checking out Aveline a few times I'd visited.

"Got switched for a satchel job," the woman-guard countered. "I'm off until then. Play a round of cards?"

"No, I have the satchel after you, in the early morning run. I'm napping to make sure I'm awake then." He turned to look at me. "What brings you here?"

"Hmm? What makes you think I'm here for anything but seeing the nice, musclar people in beautiful armor?" I joked. "Quite the paradise, for that fetish."

"Hawke, would you stop being a smartass?" I heard Aveline sigh behind me. "Sorry, Donnic. I think she's here for me."

"Come on, Aveline. You know you'd prefer a smartass to a dumbass," I laughed, turning with a grin to face her. "And yes, I'm here to visit you. Why else?"

"To sow the seeds of chaos and try to piss off as many people as possible." Her deadpanned delivery made me laugh. "I'll take care of her. She'll plow over anyone else." Hey, I wasn't _that_ bad!

"I just like pulling tails." I shrugged, but dropped the laughter. "Anyway, are you spying on me again? I _know_ I didn't tell anyone here about Bartrand."

"It saves me from having to camp out on your doorstep." She sighed at my droll look. "Look, after everything we went through to get here…" I caught the faint wince and knew she was remembering Ostagar and Wesley. "I don't want you caught over your head. Not without someone to pull you out."

Not without _her_ pulling me out. "Well, there are worst people to spy on me, and I know you're not a creepy stalker."

"Oh, Hawke." She let a chuckle escape. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Hopefully not scold me," I replied. "It's my best chance."

"No, I won't scold. I _will_ look for other options for you, though. To help you get onto the expedition as a partner."

You have got to be kidding me. "You know that _already_?"

"Information is one of the few perks of the job."

That sounded despondent. "Is everything all right? I thought you'd already overcome the troubles." There'd been the typical hazing of a new recruit, made harsher by the fact that she was Fereldan and not a Free Marcher, but last I heard, she was doing well.

"I think I stepped on someone's toes. I've been pushed out to some dead patrols." She looked aggravated by that. "I should be able to go where I'm needed."

"Well, your charm is your overwhelming force," I teased.

She smiled back a little at that, before looking thoughtful. "To change the subject, Hawke, are you free right now?"

"For the moment. What's up?"

"My patrols have been nothing more than empty walks in the dark, but there's something big coming up." She motioned for me to come closer as we slowly walked out of the Barracks. "Someone's doing a lot of hiring for an ambush. I'd thought for a caravan, but nothing matches up."

"Does something?"

"A lone guard patrol for the satchel. It's supposed to be heavy today."

"So, it's quite valuable at the moment, and a perfect target for the wrong people."

"And a lone guard isn't going to last long in a situation like that."

"And you're telling me and not your other guards because you're bored?"

"The Guards pay civilians you help out handsomely." Oh, Aveline. Always looking out for me.

"Well, for that, I'll play guard for you," I laughed. "When do we leave?"

"Now, if possible. Unless you want to grab your siblings?"

"Nerves are a little too raw for an ambush."

"Then let's get going."

* * *

"So, the sight is near Sundermont?" I asked as we climbed one of the approach trails for the giant mountain that rose above Kirkwall. I believed part of the city was actually built _into_ the mountain, for defensive reasons.

"Yes, on a caravan trail," Aveline answered as she carefully led the way. "You haven't been yet, have you?"

"No, but I need to." I'd promised Flemeth, and she didn't seem to be a good woman to piss off with a broken promise.

"Because of that amulet."

"Don't worry, Aveline. I'm not leaving now." Even if I _wasn't_ helping her out, now wasn't a good time to climb up the mountain and hunt for a Dalish camp. I would certainly get caught out here after dark and, thus, be kept out of the city. Kirkwall had a weird curfew thing, imposed by the Templars, and the gates were firmly shut once night fell.

"Good." She smiled at me. "We're almost there. Be careful." That being said, _she_ ended up being the one triggering a trap. I would've laughed if not for the fact we were immediately surrounded.

"Aveline, would you mind if I used magic?" I asked. "Just to thin out the crowd."

"Can you be certain it doesn't hit me?" she asked. She sounded annoyed, but I knew it was because she'd overlooked the thin wire. She wasn't all that injured, thanks to her bulky armor.

"If you stay behind me."

"Then, no. I don't mind."

"Okay." I paused in thought. "Oh, it might get a little chilly. Not for long, though."

"Would be nice, considering the weather."

I felt a laugh slip out as I concentrated. I ordered the water in the air to crystallize into icicles and then sliced the air in front of me to give the ice magic it's path. Frozen spikes materialized with the movement, skewering roughly half of the attackers, because they'd been stupid enough to group together. About a quarter of them died instantly. Aveline swung into the wounded with a warcry. We switched spots so that I could use the Cone of Cold on the other half, leaving the wounded to her. This wasn't hard, since we'd been prepared and hadn't been ambushed. But Aveline was right about how a lone guard might've gotten killed before they'd known what was even going on, especially with the traps that were around.

Someone was desperate for that satchel. What was in it?

"Looks like the last of them," Aveline sighed, smiling grimly at the number of corpses we left. The carrion were already picking the meat off the bones. "Should be safe for Brennan now. I'll head in and make a report."

"Come to the Hanged Man once you're done," I told her. I gestured and launched a couple fireballs to burn the corpses. The dead always deserved their due. "I have to go check on my family. Hopefully, there aren't any dead bodies yet."

* * *

No dead bodies, but I could hear Mother and Uncle Gamlen arguing, again, two houses down. I sighed as I reached the Lowtown hovel, steeled my nerves, and entered with a smile plastered to my face. "I'm home," I called.

"Sanctuary!" I heard two voices chorus before hiding behind me. The twins had, obviously, been caught in the middle of the arguing and were looking very strained. I felt instantly guilty; I should've come back sooner.

"So, what's it over this time?" I asked, hoping none of my exhaustion crept through. I needed to be the strong one, even when I was tired. "Cleaning again?"

"No, rent," Bethany explained. She sounded absolutely outraged. "He's trying to charge us rent!" He was?

"We _are_ basically living off him," Carver mumbled. He shrugged when Bethany shot him a glare. "Hey, I'm just explaining. I can understand why he'd want rent money." He sounded uncomfortable by the idea of understanding our uncle.

Still, I was confused. "We're family," I protested. "Why would he want to be paid for helping family?"

"He just wants more money for gambling," Bethany muttered. She was still glaring at Carver and made sure to put me between he and her. "We're already buying all the food."

"Speaking of which, why don't you two go out and buy some?" I suggested. "Get out of the house and the bad air." I felt bad because I kept ordering them about and, worse, kept ordering them _away_ from me. I wanted them close by, so that I could keep an eye on them. But I also didn't want them in danger and, unfortunately, I kept getting into dangerous situations. This one was especially dangerous, for the emotional stability.

"Anything in particular?" Carver asked. He looked a little proud that I was ordering him to do chores. Weird. He was never this enthusiastic back in Ferelden.

"Let's see if we can get some sort of treat," Bethany suggested, all anger gone in the face of a shopping trip. Good. Hopefully, the trip would avoid an argument. "That should help soothe all of us!"

I left them to their plans as I went deeper into the house. While we'd been talking, the angry words had fallen silent. The angry mood that permeated the rest of the house, though, was heavy enough to choke me. Uncle Gamlen, I knew, would just snap and rant at me if I tried to show any sort of sympathetic ear, so I instead focused on Mother. I'd talk with my uncle later, when he was calmer.

I crept into the bedroom, where I saw Mother sitting on the bed, cradling something in her hands. Silently, I knelt down beside her, just waiting. I knew her well. She would talk as soon as she found the words she was looking for.

"I shouldn't have snapped at him," she finally whispered. "But I was already out of sorts, and he brings up _that_…"

"What's wrong, Mother?" I asked, gently touching her clasped hands. "Anything I can do?"

Without hesitation, she showed me what she was holding. Her locket. "The chain snapped suddenly. I've been terrified all day that something bad had happened to you three."

"Don't be so silly," I gently teased. "That chain was old when I was six. It just happened to wear out. We're all fine."

"I suppose." She sighed heavily. "There's also the fact that I could've lost it in this mess of a house. Gamlen never was good at cleaning up after himself." Why wasn't I surprised? "I couldn't bear to lose this. Malcolm got it for me."

"Mother, I think you've told me the story a hundred times. You liked how it got Father to blush." Back when Father was still hiding as a mercenary, he and Mother had gotten to talking and the topic eventually turned to her arranged marriage. Seeing her upset, he'd bought her a locket, an odd one that could hold four pictures instead of the typical two. When she'd protested, he'd pointed out that, though she might never love her husband, surely she'd love her children. Of course, one of the first things Mother did after she'd run away with him was get a portrait of him done to put into the locket. 'Because I love my husband', she continually teased. When I was born, a picture of me had gone in. Bethany and Carver joined our portraits upon their births. Mother 'updated' it with new pictures every few years and stored the old ones in a small scrapbook that she'd been certain had made the trip back with us. It was currently on the nightstand, right next to Father's ashes. Uncle Gamlen's fireplace, the traditional place for urns, wasn't large enough for it. I desperately hoped that the money from the expedition would allow us to buy a nice house in Hightown, if now the old family estate itself, for Mother's sake.

"It was hard to make him blush!" She managed a laugh. "I miss him."

We all did. "Here, why don't you give me the necklace?" I suggested. "I can find a chain for it somewhere."

"Oh, would you, Althea?"

"Of course." I smiled. "You know I'd do anything for you, Mother." And may the Maker help those who'd prevent me from doing so.

* * *

After calming Mother down, I went to check on Uncle Gamlen. The frosty reception told me that I had to wait a little longer to get him to talk about what was bothering him. By that point, the twins had returned, carrying a small amount of groceries, and were _arguing_. So much for that hope.

"I had a feeling I shouldn't have sent you two off alone," I sighed as I took the grocery basket away from them. There were fragile things and this argument was looking fierce. "What's going on?"

"I think we should help Mother!" Bethany declared with fiery eyes. Fire also swirled around her hands, a sign she was close to losing her temper. "I even have the old key!"

"Help with what?" I pointed to her hands in a silent rebuke as I set the food down. Chagrin, she closed her eyes and focused on calming down so that the flames disappeared.

"I'm not sure we should," Carver countered, completely ignoring my question. "We'd be stirring up a _lot_ of trouble." It went unspoken that we shouldn't be doing that. "And some of what Uncle Gamlen says does make sense."

"Why you little…!" Bethany growled, fire again appearing at her hands.

"Temper," I warned aloud. She turned away and forced herself to calm down. "Now, someone explain what is going on?"

"It's something from yesterday, from when you went out shopping," Carver explained slowly. "Mother wants to see her father's will. Gamlen says it's in the old estate."

"Why wouldn't he bring that with him?"

"No idea." The look in his eyes said he had a _very_ good idea, but neither of us really wanted to say that suspicion. As much of a jerk as our uncle could be, he _was_ our uncle. "Point is, though, is that it's not here."

"There's a way in through the cellars in Darktown," Bethany jumped back into the conversation. "I have the old key. Mother gave it to me." If I remembered the story of her elopement correctly, she had it because she'd used those very cellars to get out of the house, and had kept the key because she was worried about thieves breaking in. Grandfather must've never changed the locks. "It would be so easy!"

Maker, why did you put me in these situations? One twin was going to hate me no matter my decision. "Carver, why would it cause trouble?" I asked. "Other than the whole 'breaking and entering' aspect."

"The slavers who pay a lot in bribes," he answered sourly.

It took a second to reply. "You're complaining about the possibility to kill _slavers_?"

"No, I'd love to give them what their kind deserves." He sighed. "But they pay _a lot_ in bribes. That means someone will need to be a scapegoat and, likely, we'll get caught eventually."

Those were good reasons. So, it was balancing act time. "Here's what we're going to do," I began slowly. "We're going to the cellars." Bethany grinned triumphantly; Carver scoffed. "However, we are only going to look around. _If_ we can get to the will, and get out, with minimal effort, then we do. If not, we leave and come up with a different strategy." Carver reluctantly nodded; Bethany frowned. "Okay?"

"I suppose," Bethany murmured, not happy.

"Yeah, I can agree to that," Carver added crossly.

The way you knew if you've made a good compromise is if no one is happy. Unfortunately, this also meant the twins hated me for a while. Joy. "Let's get to the Hanged Man. We need to talk to Varric." Oh, and Aveline might be there by now. Maybe she could help.

* * *

We found Aveline before Varric, mostly because Aveline was still in her guard armor, silently fuming at a glass of water, and everyone was giving her a noticeably wide berth.

"How about you two find the charming dwarf?" I suggested. "Just in case Aveline's got a mean temper?"

"Thanks," Bethany whispered.

"Will do," Carver agreed quickly. I almost laughed at how fast they ran off, but decided that sitting down across from Aveline was the better course of action.

"Oh, Hawke," she greeted. Her voice was strained.

"Something bad happen?" I asked. A server came by, and I requested water. No alcohol for me.

"…I got yelled at."

"For what?"

"For 'stepping out of line'." She glared at her glass. "It shouldn't matter. Bandits are dead and a guard's life won't be in unexpected danger."

"You're right," I agreed as the server set down my own glass next to me. "But that's not all that's got you angry."

"It's not the first time Guard-Captain Jevan has made me wonder about his priorities."

"I'm sure there's a reasonable lie," I jokingly reassured.

"Not when fellow guardsmen are paying the price," she growled.

"Again, a joke goes right over your head," I muttered. "So, what's the plan?"

"Brennan has passed the satchel over to Donnic, skipping her patrol today due to my finding an ambush on her route. He's a good man. I checked out where his patrol is, just to make sure it's as quiet as it should be later."

"And when is it?"

"Late evening, early morning. Typically, that's light duty, but considering the circumstances…"

"Looks like I'm not getting sleep tonight." She looked stunned. "Oh, come on! I'm not letting you do this alone!"

"…Thank you, Hawke…" She smiled at me. The first smile she had on her face that wasn't sad. I felt proud about that.

"Your siblings said it was safe to come over, despite the guard," a voice joked. I turned to see Varric approach with a grin. "Is it?"

"Yes. Aveline, this is Varric. He's the one helping me with getting on the expedition. Varric, this is Aveline, one of my dearest friends."

"Happy to meet you!" He easily slid into a chair. "Note of advice. Don't wear guard armor here unless you're on duty."

"I am always on duty," Aveline replied with dignity. "But, so long as you do good, I'll turn a blind eye."

"I could get to like you, Red." Nicknames already? "Junior and Sunshine are getting drinks. They'll be here in a second."

"I'm assuming Carver is 'Junior' and Bethany is 'Sunshine'?" I asked dryly. "Carver is going to want to kill you."

"Eh, I'll charm him eventually." The grin faded as he settled in. "Now, then, shall we talk some business?"

"Is this business legal?" Aveline asked.

"For the moment," Varric replied easily. "I do try to stay on the right side of the law. Much cheaper."

"So, Varric," I began as Aveline frowned. "What's the news?"

"We need a good entrance into the Deep Roads."

"Wouldn't a bad entrance be okay? Well, unless there's a dragon sitting on it or something."

Varric laughed. "An entrance close to where we are so that we're not spending as much time cloistered under the damn ground." So, Varric didn't like being underground? Odd for a dwarf. "Bartrand can lead us to the place once in, but getting _in_ is the tricky part."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Some information has come in talking about a Grey Warden who's appeared in the city somewhere. If anyone knows a way in, it'll be him."

"We're not getting into trouble with the Wardens, are we?" Bethany asked as she sat down next to me. Carver passed out mugs and plopped down across from me, between Aveline and Varric.

"I'd rather not get in a fight with a Warden, so I hope not," Varric answered quickly.

"Good idea," Carver mumbled. He shared a look with Aveline that spoke _volumes_ about the fighting prowess of the Wardens back at Ostagar. "So, where is he?"

"Word is that he came in with some Fereldan refugees in that last surge, but other than that, no one is talking."

"So, you need me to track down an ex-Warden in hopes he'll help?" I asked. "Why me?"

"Because you're charming and beautiful and, thus, more likely to get the Fereldans around here to talk," Varric replied bluntly. …Charming and beautiful?

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I muttered. "So, are we visiting Lirene?" Lirene was a kind woman who was doing her best to help Fereldan refugees. We'd run some errands for her after our time with the Red Irons ended.

"Yep." He picked up his pint. "But first, let's finish our drinks. Wouldn't want them to go to waste."

"No, of course not," Bethany mumbled. She glanced at me and I passed her my cup of water. Bethany _loathed_ the taste of alcohol and it looked like neither of the twins had known that you _could_ order simple water. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Hey, no private conversations," Varric jokingly ordered. "We're all going to be working with each other. Let's chat."

"About?

"Like why your hair is _ridiculously_ long?" He pointed to the braid that went past my hips. "You'd think a woman who gets so close and personal with her enemies would like to provide one less thing to grab onto."

"Mother likes it long," I explained. I shared a wicked grin with Carver and Bethany. They knew the secret about the braid and _loved_ seeing reactions to it. "Besides, there's a spiked strap braided into it. Mother's idea."

"…Remind me not to mess with your mother. Seems to be unhealthy."

The twins laughed hard and even harder when they realized even _Aveline_ was just staring in shock over that little revelation.

* * *

The Emporium was quite close to the Hanged Man. It took a bit to get inside, though, due to the large amount of refugees who were there for help.

"Hawke, I'm going to stay out here," Aveline said. "It's too crowded and some of them might get even more nervous."

"I'll keep you company," Bethany offered.

"Yeah, same," Carver mumbled. "Damn, I feel like we should be thanking Gamlen, now. We could've been them." Nice sobering thought. "It's even worse now than it was the last time we helped out."

"It's the last surge of refugees," Aveline murmured. "The last of the people who'd lost all hope, and keep finding none.

I stepped inside with Varric close behind me. The small crowd of despairing people made my heart ache. But I carefully pushed my way through to Lirene at the front. She was hunched over a desk, trying to ignore everything as she scribbled something rapidly. When I got close, I coughed politely to let her know I was here.

"If you're in need of aid, leave you name with my girl," Lirene said absently as she kept scribbling. I saw it was allotment of donations. "We serve everyone. None came from Fereldan without trouble."

"Be that as it may, Lirene, you know I'm not taking charity from you," I replied softly.

She looked up and smiled. "Oh, Hawke. Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"No worries. Unfortunately, though, I _am_ here on business."

"What is it?" She put her paper to the side. I saw Varric scrutinize it and wince. "If it's a criminal hunt, I don't ask questions."

"I know. But I'm looking for someone."

"Who is that?"

Varric wandered off behind me, looking at the donation box. "A Fereldan Grey Warden," I answered.

"The only ones I know of are in Fereldan. One's sitting on the throne, another is his queen, and the Hero is ruling Amaranthine." She sounded defensive.

"Perhaps I should say 'ex-Warden', then?" I pressed. I kept myself from smiling as I noted Varric leaving a couple of soverigns in the box. He's quite the softie, but a quiet one.

"The healer used to be one," someone commented. I couldn't see who, but I was grateful to them.

"He's not now," Lirene hastily stated. "And busy enough as is." She scrutinized me. "Why would you need a Warden?"

"Perhaps you could better explain why you're trying to protect him?" I asked. "I would've thought my family and I had earned a little bit of your trust."

"True." She sighed. "You've seen what Fereldans face. No home, no work. Often times, no food. But this healer… he tends to them without price. He's a good man. I won't lose him to the blighted templars for using his gifts."

Templars, huh? So, he was an apostate. "My, my. Sounds like quite the man," I laughed.

"Pretty sure some people swing by just to ogle," she sighed, exasperated. "Then again, he's never turned anyone away."

"Well, I can assure you that this is strictly business, and that I am not with the templars." I kept my tone serious. "He will come to no harm by my hand."

"I see…" She studied me a moment, before nodding. "Very well, I've always trusted you before. Look for the lit lantern in Darktown. Anders will be within."

Darktown. Smart to hide in the sewers. Many templars refused to go down there for fear of griming up their armor. "Thank you."

"See, I told you that you'd be able to get the info," Varric commented as we turned away. I didn't reply as one girl suddenly pushed her way forward to beg for help with her mother. "So, we pick up Red, Junior, and Sunshine from outside, head down below the city, and… hey, Hawke, are you listening?"

I was, barely, as I heard that the girl's mother had gone into labor early. I couldn't just stand by and… "Excuse me," I whispered, coming up beside the girl. "I served as a medicine woman back in Fereldan. Will I do for help?"

"Oh, really?" she breathed, clutching my sleeve. "Please! There's already so much blood. I don't know how we can pay, but I'm sure we'll-"

"Forget payment. You'll lose both the mother and child if you don't have help." I started pushing through the crowd. "Varric, I'll meet you all in Darktown."

If he replied, I didn't hear. I was already thinking of what I'd need to do.

* * *

I was all but skipping with happiness when I arrived in Darktown. The baby boy had been born perfectly healthy and the mother would be just fine after a few days of rest. The girl's father had been surprised by my adamant refusal of payment. But, really, what was the point? I enjoyed helping and healing, and they barely had anything. Why take from them?

"We're dealing with an apostate," I heard Carver grumble as I approached the out of the way clinic. A bright latern, the only light down here, shone above the door. "Damn it. We're supposed to stay _out_ of trouble."

"Well, why don't you stay quiet so that we _do_ stay out of trouble?" Bethany hissed.

"And how about you two don't fight?" I suggested lightly, announcing my presence. Aveline and Varric smiled in relief. The twins must've been arguing for a bit; they always managed to bring out the worst in each other. "So, what's up?"

"Seems to be the place," Aveline answered. "I shall remain out here. For multiple reasons."

Okay? With a shrug, I led the way through the doors. I noted the hinges were made to be easy to come in and out. A thoughtful gesture, since some people might have to rush inside for treatment. It made the place less easy to defend, though.

Inside, there were many, many wounded and ill people. My heart ached as I noticed quite a few of them were children. They were being tended to by one man in mage robes. Found our man. He was working healing magic on a particularly sick young boy. I could tell from here that the boy was close to death, but this man was a Spirit Healer, so he would recover after a few days. Spirit Healers, who made bargains with the Spirits of the Fade for healing arts, were heavily watched by templars, seen as something similar yet opposite of Blood Mages. I'd always wanted to learn, but had been too afraid after becoming a blood mage to look for a benevolent spirit without assistance. Father refused to learn Spirit Healing and thus couldn't teach me; he had actually cautioned away from all dealings with spirits. _'The natural world has enough power, little bird'_, he would always teach me.

"Uh, Hawke?" I heard Varric mutter. "Get your head out of the clouds before I have to bullshit our way out of this? That never makes a good first meeting."

Huh? Startled, I felt a pulse of power from the man before he snatched his staff from a nearby wall and whirled. "I have made this a place of healing and salvation," he snapped, bringing up his staff. "Why have you come to threaten it?"

"Strange, I thought Wardens were all about death and taint," I joked, shrugging off his warnings. "Look, we're not here to harm you."

"And pretty words are supposed to make me believe that?" If he'd stop with the glaring, he'd actually be quite handsome. Then again, judging by the bruise on his neck, he'd had a recent bad encounter.

"Would an action make you feel better?" I walked a little closer so that I could see the bruise better. I stopped when I noticed him preparing an ice spell, but leaned in with a hand outstretched. I called a quick healing spell, powerful enough to produce a flash of the silver-white of my magic, to deal with the bruise. "Better?"

"I… see. You too are an apostate." He lowered his staff and brushed a hand over his neck. "Thanks. I haven't had the time to fix that yet. That was a good healing spell."

"As powerful as I can make it without being a Spirit Healer," I replied. "So, can you stop with the attacking mage thing and talk?"

"I suppose." He studied me. "You don't appear to be wounded. So, what is your purpose?"

"Talking, mainly, like the pretty woman said," Varric answered, coming up from behind. He shot me a curious glance, but just smiled at my awkward look. "Word is that you used to be a Warden."

"Yes, I was," the healer answered slowly. "I have no intention of returning, though."

"That's not what we're here for," I reassured. "You see; we're heading an expedition into the Deep Roads and were wondering if you had some information."

"I shall die a happy man if I end up never thinking about the Deep Roads again." He sighed, but looked thoughtful. "However, a favor for a favor… does that sound fair?"

"Depends," I answered warily. "I mean; I don't do anything with children or animals."

"Darn, there goes _that_ plan." Hey, he joked! "No, nothing like that. A friend of mine wishes to leave the Gallows. I came here to help him. Unfortunately, I think the templars have caught on." He moved to a small chest in the corner and rummaged through it. "If you help me bring him to safety, I'll give you these." He straightened and held up a small stack of papers. "Warden maps of the area. They should give you any information you'd need."

"And a lot more," Varric breathed. "Impressive."

"I would help any mage under those circumstances," I told him with a smile. "However, I will appreciate those maps."

"My thanks," the healer replied, putting the maps back in the chest.

"Let's hope this works out," Carver sighed. I'd almost forgotten he and Bethany were behind me. They'd been quiet this whole time. "We risk a lot of trouble if we're caught."

"Well, it won't be the first time I've killed templars," I mumbled.

"I'd forgotten about that. Wasn't it when Bethany got caught?"

"I still don't remember any of that," Bethany sighed. "Maybe it's for the best."

"It is," I stated, before returning my attention to the healer. "I'm called Hawke, by the way. The dwarf is Varric, and the twins are Carver and Bethany, my siblings."

"I'm a mage as well," Bethany added with a small smile. "It's so nice to meet another mage who helps out people."

"I do what I can," the healer replied. "I'm Anders. I told Karl to meet in the Chantry later tonight. Meet me there."

"We will," I promised. Two dates for one night? I must be so popular. "Until then."

"Until then."

* * *

Aveline had moved to the lowest area, helping some children carry their belongings to their hovel.

"You could've come in with us," I commented when I found her. "Why didn't you?"

"Technically speaking, I need to report any apostates," Aveline explained, handing the last box to a child and then walking over.

"You're looking at one."

"I know you. You do your best to help people out. I trust you." Would she trust me if she knew I was a blood mage? I was scared to find out. "I don't know him, but I can see he's doing a lot of good here. So, I'll stay out of it, for the moment."

"I see." I smiled at her. "Anyway, let's get to the others. Bethany stopped at a random place not far from that infirmary."

"Why did she stop there?"

"Honestly, I'm worried as to why." I sighed heavily. "Anyway, let's go."

With Aveline in tow, I returned to the small corridor not far from Anders's clinic. Bethany was scrutinizing the walls while Carver looked on in annoyance and Varric looked on in _amusement_. Right as I got there, though, Bethany touched a stone and a hidden door swung out slowly, creeking all the while.

"This leads to the cellar," Bethany said excitedly. She turned and beamed when she saw I was there. "Come on! Let's go!"

"Hold on," Carver snapped. "We don't know if it's safe! That was the agreement!"

"And _I_ don't know what you're doing," Aveline added. Her tone was suspicious. "What are you two planning?"

"We hope to sneak into Mother's old house to recover the family will," Bethany explained hurriedly.

"If we don't get in trouble over it," Carver added.

"You're planning on breaking into the Amell Estate?" Varric asked incredulously. Wait, when did I tell him I was related to the Amells? "That place has been owned by slavers for years.

"…_Slavers_?" Aveline repeated. I immediately felt the air's temperature drop at the coldness of her tone.

"Yeah, they pay good money in bribes, so they're ignored."

"Not on my watch!" She stormed past us and climbed up into where we thought the cellars were.

"So, if anyone asks, we're just here helping Aveline," I commented lightly as we all just stared. I _knew_ talking to her would've been the smart idea.

* * *

Author's note: Kind of a long chapter, encompassing three quests: The Way it Should Be (Aveline's Act 1 companion quest), Birthright (basically your sibling's companion quest), and Tranquility (the first of the 'main' quests of Act 1). Act 1 will have multiple overlaps, especially at the beginning, just due to proximity and convenient timing.

I'm really hoping I have Bethany's character okay. I haven't played as a warrior or rogue in ages, because I prefer the mage class in DA2. There's a lot of arguing between her and Carver, but it's mentioned the two have that sort of relationship in game. Unfortunately, that seems to bring out the worst in each other. Also… well, I rarely used the siblings once the rest of the companions came in (because of what happens at the end of Act 1). Carver, I'm a little more firm with, but since he's only there for a short while, I'm not sure about _his_ characterization.

It is mentioned in… _that_ sidequest (you all know the one) that Leandra has a necklace. I've expanded on the origin of said necklace, and why it's so important.

Next Chapter – Inheritance. I'm going to try to get out chapters every two weeks, but we'll see how _that_ goes.


	5. Chapter 4) Inheritance

**Free Marches – Kirkwall – 9:31**

_Inheritance_

* * *

"_You pause a lot when Hawke changes locations," the Seeker comments absently. "Even when it's as simple as entering a store."_

"_Do you know how much time we spent in Kirkwall?" he sighs. "I swear; someone was making a killing in rent money, with all the criminals that were using the _same exact place_ as their secret hideout."_

"_So, you keep pausing because…?"_

"_Trying to make sure I tell the story in order. I'm remembering this, dear Seeker. Unless you want me to start spouting off details about what happened seven years later and get you horribly confused."_

"…_Fine…"_

"_Now, then, where was I? Oh, right. The Amell Cellars._

* * *

"It's surprisingly well in tact," I commented as we climbed up into the cellars. "I wonder if we can find any embarrassing baby portraits of Mother down here."

It really was nice down here, surprisingly. There was the light scent of cedar wood to chase away the stench of Darktown, for instance. Everything was very open and very neatly stacked against the walls. It was almost as if someone had intended to live down here, but then changed their mind at the last possible second.

"So, do we follow the original plan of sneaking in and out?" Carver asked dryly. "Or do we let Aveline just plow all the way through?" He wasn't really expecting an answer to that. Aveline was like a mabari on the prowl and there was no _way_ we were getting out of here without confronting the slavers with her here. On the bright side, that meant dead slavers and free access to the vault. On the dark side, that meant trouble and a lot of it.

"I've got two traps in sight," Varric called back. I'd asked him to scout ahead, as he claimed to be skilled at detecting traps, and picking locks. Looked like he could back his claim. "Disarm?"

"Please and thank you," I told him. "Bethany? Aveline? Anything on your end?"

"Nothing for me," Bethany answered. She was getting nervous, especially in light of Aveline's stony silence. She was _not_ taking someone taking bribes to ignore crimes well. Not at all. "Um… Aveline?"

"They'll likely be with the traps," I finally stated when it became obvious that Aveline just wasn't going to talk. "So, let's all prepare for a situation, yes?"

Bethany sighed and crept closer to me. Carver nodded and stepped away from me. Aveline checked her shield and sword, but remained completely silent. Varric, ahead, went to work on the traps.

He'd just disarmed one when we got company. "What's this?" someone sighed. We all looked up to the stairs to see some people rushing down. The speaker, however, was just strolling, as if in a park. "Some rats who thought there was something to steal."

"Actually, I am here to take you all into custody," Aveline declared. Of course _now_ she talked. "Under suspicions of participating in the slave trade."

"We pay the Guard-Captain for clemency!" one protested.

"I'm not Jeven. I am Aveline Vallen and I _will not_ tolerate this."

"We're not going without a fight."

"Your choices are to receive judgment from the Maker or judgment from the courts," I commented cheerfully. "I suggest choosing quickly." They hesitated, but one, the soft-spoken leader, was smirking like he had an ace up his sleeve. I had a good guess to what it was. "Varric? How's that second trap?"

"Huh? Oh, that useless thing?" Varric sighed dramatically as he stood up from working on some metal thing. "I'd been had that disarmed, Hawke. Too easy."

"I figured." I smiled sweetly. "So, would you rather be clapped in irons or become a blood smear on the walls here? I'd rather the former. Blood doesn't smell all that nice." They didn't want the irons, despite putting so many into that very fate, so they opted to run at us screaming like idiots. "Mind if Bethany and I do some spells?"

"Save the smarter ones for us!" Carver laughed. "The ones that _didn't_ charge."

"Yeah, yeah." I turned to grin at Bethany. "Double Firestorm?"

"So long as we don't hit the others," Bethany replied softly. "I'd hate it if that happened."

"Then keep your control steady." I made sure I sounded encouraging. "You can do it, Bethany. Just remember your lessons."

"I'll try." She'd do a lot better if she had some more confidence. Of course, given that she lacked in, she lacked some control and almost burned Carver with the initial flames. "…Oh…"

"Carver, you know better than to stand so close to a mage," I scolded as he yelped and did a funny dance to avoid the fire. "Bethany, what did I say about control?"

"Sorry," they both mumbled. Carver's was more aggravated and sarcastic than Bethany's, but neither said more as they went to work. Carver charged to assist Aveline directly; Varric happily backed them up with his crossbow named Bianca (who _named_ a weapon?). Bethany and I continued using Firestorm to get the ones who'd charged ahead, preventing them from turning back and sneaking up on the warriors and dwarf.

Soon, though, it was over. As Aveline and Varric rounded up the survivors, and looked for decisive evidence, the twins and I snuck up into the family vault to look around. As they stared and talked about the old legacy, I found the Will next to a portrait of Mother when she was younger. I stuck the portrait in my pack, next to Mother's locket, and skimmed over the legal jargon on the paper.

"Well, let's take some of this, I guess," Carver commented. "Hey, here are some talisman things, Bethany. Maybe they'll help you?"

"Are we looting from our family's vault?" Bethany asked, horrified. "We're just here for the Will!"

"Why not? It's ours. Hey, I like these buckles. I think they'd work well for me."

"No, it's our _family's_! Put those down! It's not the same-!"

"Actually, it's all Mother's," I interrupted as I reached the important passage. "Come over here and look."

They obeyed and began reading over my shoulder. I knew when they read the important sentence. Bethany gasped; Carver cursed. "Our uncle has a couple of things to answer to, it seems."

"It's also dark," Varric said, poking his head back in. "Let's meet with Blondie and get what we need. Red also mentioned something about helping Donnic."

"Did you really just give Anders a nickname?" I asked as I tucked the Will into my pack for safekeeping.

"It's what I do. Now, let's get going."

* * *

Anders was waiting for us in front of the Chantry. He looked relieved when he saw us approach.

"Sorry for being late," I greeted softly, with a smile. "We decided to pay a visit to our grandparents' home and the slavers insisted on being such good hosts."

"I was wondering what the noise was about," he responded. "I saw Karl go in not too long ago and I haven't seen any templars. If we move quickly, I think we can pull this off."

"Then lead the way in." Anders nodded and carefully opened the door. Varric followed him, then the twins. I noticed that Aveline stayed put, though, and gave her a quizzical look. "Aveline?"

"I'm staying out here," she told me. "Be careful."

"We'll try," I promised before following the rest inside. The Chantry was… it was quite a bit larger than the Chantry back in Lothering. Grander too. Yet, it felt more stifling and cold. I couldn't imagine anyone sitting around the fire and telling stories, like lay-sister Leliana did.

"Where do you think your friend is, Blondie?" Varric asked quietly.

"Likely on the upper level," Anders answered after a moment. He hadn't realized 'Blondie' referred to him. "Here, I'll lead the way up the staircase."

Varric followed him, but the twins and I lingered. Bethany had decided to do a short, silent prayer. Carver, however, was tense and tugged my sleeve insistently. "There's something here," he hissed in my ear. "There's something wrong. We're walking into a trap."

"…I find myself agreeing with you," I whispered back as I scanned the area. "But what makes you say that?"

"No one is tending to the brazier, for one." …He was right about that. I'd thought they had someone tending to it at all hours. "Other than that, it's too quiet. Back at Ostagar, I learned to not trust the quiet."

"Look for escape routes while we head up. We _do_ have a job to fulfill."

"I hope the Maker hears my prayer," Bethany suddenly said softly. She turned to us. "I hope he truly helps us." We'd see about that. "Let's follow Varric and Anders up, then."

The twins went up the stairs, but I lingered at the bottom, staring up at the brazier. Representing the flame that had burned Andraste, all Chantries kept them burning. It was bad luck for it to go out.

As I stared, I suddenly caught sight of burning corpses on a devastated battlefield. I saw Varric kneeling in the middle of them, silently crying at the loss life as he gently tried to wake some of the dead. I saw darkness closing in on the world, and a shadowed figure in the distance, shakily stand up in the face of a horrible windstorm and sand.

"Hawke?" I gasped and whirled at my name, to see Varric looking down at me from the balcony. "You okay?" he asked. "You were glowing for a bit."

Glowing, huh? Then was that vision a result of my magic? Was it trying to warn me about something? "I'm fine," I croaked. Startled, I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm fine." What had that been? What did I see?

"Well, come on up. The friend is here. But… well, I've got a bad feeling and we all know when the storyteller gets a bad feeling, something is _really_ wrong."

I managed a laugh and walked up. I purposely avoided looking at the flame, just in case my magic tried to grip me again. I found the others not far away in a study area in front of doors. No one was smiling, though. Anders was trying to talk to his friend, Karl, but Karl wasn't replying. Was he dead?

As if he heard my thought, Karl glanced to me and finally spoke, "Anders, I knew you would come." …Why did his voice sound creepily calm? Normal people did _not_ talk in monotone.

"It's about time you reacted," Anders grumbled. Bethany shot me a concerned look as Carver gripped his greatsword tightly. "I'd wondered if you'd gone deaf."

"Uh… Blondie?" Varric began slowly. He brought down 'Bianca' from his back. "Is it normal for your friend to be this calm?"

"N-no…" Anders was reluctant to admit it. "But, Karl is a Harrowed mage. So, turning him Tranquil is forbidden by Chantry law."

"Looks like someone decided to disobey the law," I snapped as Karl stood and turned around to reveal the Chantry mark emblazoned on his forehead. That on a mage always meant 'Tranquil'.

"I was too rebellious," Karl stated. "Like you. I had to be made an example of."

"Of why most mages would rather die than become Tranquil?" Carver asked dryly, hiding away fear. "No wonder my sisters talk about it like it's a fate worse than death."

"Well, how else are we going to control the mages?" I whirled at the new voice to see a handful of templars approach. "And look at this. Use one as bait, and we get two apostates." Three, but like Father, and unlike Bethany, I was good at hiding my magical abilities. Not even Ser Bryant had been able to identify me as a mage, and he was noted among the templars for being skilled at finding hiding apostates. Of course, Father was much better. He could've used a spell right in front of a templar, and still show no signs of being a mage.

"Let's just kill the spellbinds and their pets and go home," another templar snapped. I bristled at the word 'spellbind'. No one back in Fereldan had indulged in that slur, to my knowledge, but it seemed the Free Marchers weren't nearly as polite. Also, 'pets'? I felt like throttling them.

"You idiot! Mages hate that term!" another scolded. "I swear; if they start throwing flames because of that…!"

What actually happened was worse. Anders growled, muttered something under his breath, and suddenly turned all blue and glowy. And the lighthearted way of describing it did _nothing_ to convey just how terrifying it was. I'd had never heard of a magic that did that to a person. "You shall never have a mage as you did him again!" he suddenly boomed, with two different voices echoing together. What… what was…?

The templars had a similar reaction to mine, utter shock. Their training, however, told them to continue attacking, and to attack _everyone_. I realized this when I was suddenly ducking under a sword aimed at my head. Thankfully, it had been a wild swing. Of course, there wasn't much to be done. There were only about five of them and, coincidentally, there were five of us. Not even templars could survive a bolt through the neck. As for their magic resistance? Well, when you got within a certain distance, it didn't really work. Also, glowy Anders really liked dishing out devastating ice magic. The walls were going to need some serious repair work.

Did I mention how scary this was? Because it was really scary killing five templars, inside the Chantry, with a glowing mage dealing _vasts_ amount of damage to the point that the structure of the building was all but falling!

"So, can someone explain what just happened?" I asked as we made short work of the templars. "Because I'm pretty sure we just saw something that violated the laws of magic."

"Damn, Sister," Carver grumbled. "I was just about to ask you. Nothing in those magic lessons?"

"Not for me. Bethany?"

"Of course not!" she all but shrieked. "You're farther along!" She took a breath suddenly and shook her head. "Sorry, I'm a little… freaked out."

"Good, not just me," Varric murmured. "Love it when that happens. So, Blondie, what's going on?"

"Anders, what _did_ you do?" the mage Karl breathed as he looked around frantically. …Wait, frantically? But he was Tranquil, incapable of anything but creepy serenity. "It's… there's a piece of the Fade here. It brushed past me, freed me. I… I had already forgotten…"

First we had a mage go all deep and booming and now we had a Tranquil who'd regained their emotions. What in the Void was going on here? "I wonder what would happen if that piece of the Fade did more than just brush by or whatever he said," I murmured. "Certainly intriguing."

"Intriguing, but already fading!" He turned to Anders and pleaded, "Kill me! Kill me before I forget again! Forget my life, my emotions! Please!"

"There must be something we can do!" Bethany protested. "Surely…!"

"You can't fix a beheading," I mumbled.

"You can't recreate a limb that's severed," Anders added, sounding like he was speaking from a textbook. "No healer's magic can replace what has been lost. It assists the body in creating anew from what is already there. Blood, from what's still in the body. Skin, from what's still there. Bone, from the pieces still inside. But something completely lost cannot be replaced." He laughed bitterly. "I left the Wardens because I kept feeling helpless in the face of all the victims, yet I'm still unable to save people, despite my magic."

"Anders…"

"The dreams and connection to the Fade are severed. Therefore, nothing can be done." He was visibly holding back tears as he looked Karl in the eye. "I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner."

"I'm proud to die as a mage, not a templar puppet," Karl reassured. "Please…!"

"Do you want me to do it?" I offered, noticing Anders's hesitation.

He shook his head. "No, I will. But… but thank you."

"Hurry!" Karl pleaded. "It's already fa-!" His eyes became unfocused and he took on the disturbing calm air that all Tranquil had. "Why are you upset?"

There was no answer as Anders reached out and shot a chunk of ice magic straight through Karl's throat. He died quickly, if messily. "Come on," Anders whispered. "Let's… let's get going." Right then, though, we heard a footstep in the corridor. Someone was coming.

The others ran, but I stayed. Someone had to come up with a story, or be the scapegoat. Templars were dead in the house of the Chantry. They wouldn't let that pass. I made a show of frantically checking bodies, as if trying to see if anyone was alive. A note caught my attention, which I shoved into a pocket for later viewing. Maybe it would have answers about what happened to Karl? Like, who had broken Chantry law?

"What is this?" a hard voice demanded. Male and angry. "What's going on here?"

"Calm down, child," a soft voice ordered. Female and kind. "Yelling shall tell give us nothing but echoes."

"Can someone help?" I called, pitching my voice a little high to fake panic. "I… they're all bleeding bad!" Actually, they were all dead, but saying that would make me look more suspicious.

Two people rounded the corner, a man in armor and a woman in robes. I briefly glanced up at them, and then went back to 'checking the bodies'. There was a long, long silence before anything happened.

"Oh. Oh, my." I flinched as a hand touched my face, tilting it up. I found myself looking into calm and warm grey eyes in a face lined with smile-lines. "You look like someone I met a long time ago," she continued, kneeling down beside me. She was dressed in a fancier version of the Chantry robes here. I guessed she was a Mother here. "A mercenary. He was a kind man, always smiling, even when he was hurting. He volunteered here a lot. Tending to the poor who couldn't afford a doctor and helping this old woman with moving things."

Father… "I'm just a Fereldan, ma'am," I replied. Nowhere near as talented as Father. "I…"

"And how does a Fereldan end up here, in the Chantry, surrounded by the corpses of templars?" the man demanded. His accent was distinctly Fereldan. As the moonlight filtered through, I could see that he was wearing templar armor with the special coat of arms that marked the Knight-Captain. Well, things just got interesting.

"They attacked me," I explained hurriedly. It wasn't really a lie. "They thought I was with an apostate." Also, not a lie. "Wait, are they really...? No, surely not! I... I..."

"Knight-Captain, please," the Mother instructed. Her tone told me she was buying into my act. Success? "Let's move to a different area where we can talk calmly."

"Very well, Grand Cleric." …So, I was talking to the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall and the Knight-Captain. Wow, I was getting friends in high places.

* * *

The Grand Cleric's idea of a place we could talk calmly was some study in the back, with tea and light snacks. She had both the Knight-Captain and me sit and eat a little before she allowed us to continue talking about what happened. This was a _weird_ lady.

"So, may I hear your story?" the Grand Cleric asked me. "Please?"

"Well, a man broke into my house," I began, thinking rapidly. "My family and I live with my uncle in a hovel in Lowtown. He is _incredibly_ bad at cleaning, so it's a little decrepit. The man probably thought it was empty because of that. I confronted him and… well, he panicked, snatched something, and ran. I almost let him be, but then I saw what had been stolen and chased after him. We ended up in the Chantry. He talked with the mage out there, the newly tranquil one out there, and was horrified by something. Then the templars appeared and tried to kill him." I shrugged helplessly. "That was the first I'd heard of the thief being an apostate. But, since I happened to be there, the templars assumed I was with him. I tried telling them it was a mistake, but they didn't listen. I… I didn't want to die. I have to take care of my family."

"So, you were forced to defend yourself," the Grand Cleric murmured. "I see."

"Convenient that you're the only one alive," the Knight-Captain pointed out. "Your story is the only one we'll hear."

"Perhaps you can show us the object?" the Grand Cleric suggested. "Were you able to recover it?"

"Yes," I murmured, reaching into my pack to produce Mother's locket. Talk about good luck. "It's probably not worth much in material wealth, but it's priceless to my family. My deceased father gave it to my mother, when they were courting."

"Oh, the chain is broken," Elthina murmured, as the Knight Captain took it from me to study. "I think I've a chain or two that I can give you for that. Unless the chain part is also precious?"

"Pretty sure it's the pendant," I joked shakily. "I'd appreciate it. I've been trying to find a replacement. That's why Mother wasn't wearing it."

"I will be but a moment." She smiled and turned her attention to the Knight Captain. "Is that all?"

"This should be enough." He sighed heavily and gave me back the locket. "With it, your story gains some credibility. My apologies for the… overzealousness of my fellows. I will be certain to address it."

"My thanks," I mumbled, a little surprised. I'd thought Wesley was the only reasonable Templar in existence.

As the Grand Cleric rummaged through some of the nearby shelves, the Knight-Captain focused all of his attention on me. "Did you happened to get a good look at the apostate?"

"Um…" I made a show of thinking hard. "I think he had black hair, very short. Green eyes. Oh, and he was dressed in armor. Black, I think, though it might've been a dark blue. Sorry, but that's all I can remember." Keeping lies vague was always a good idea. Let others fill in the blanks.

"I'll see about getting that description out, then. If you remember anymore details about him…"

"I will be certain to report it immediately," I 'reassured'.

"Here's one that I think will match the locket," the Grand Cleric suddenly said as she produced a small chain. I smiled as I took it and threaded through the locket. Perfect. "Now, there _is_ one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Murder in the Chantry is a serious crime. Self-defense makes it tolerable, little more." Her warm tone told me she wasn't really angry with me, despite the words. "I would like you to attend the next five days of worship in penance. If you must miss a day, send word immediately and make it up the next."

"Thank you, ma'am," I whispered.

"You in there, Hawke?" I was startled by Varric's voice and twisted in my chair to see him in the doorway. "A sister pointed me this way."

"Ah, Varric Tethras," the Grand Cleric greeted with a warm smile. "Here to tease my poor disciples?"

"Grand Cleric Elthina, you wound me. I'm merely here to check on Hawke. I'm told she left her house in quite the rush."

"I think this is a good place to end the discussion then," the Knight-Captain declared, standing up. "Grand Cleric, would you mind if I sent for templars to help with the bodies?"

"Not at all," the Grand Cleric reassured. "I shall rouse some of my disciples awake to make burning preparations. Serah Hawke, I shall see you soon."

"Yes, your grace," I murmured before following Varric out of the room. As soon as I was sure we were out of earshot, though, I had to ask him, "Did you come up with the house thing on your own or were you eavesdropping?"

"The latter," he admitted easily. "Good bullshitting, by the way."

"I do my best."

* * *

Once outside, I learned that Aveline had to race off to help Donnic. Bethany and Carver, with some persuasion, went with her to give her help. Anders, however, stayed. He didn't say why, but I had a feeling it was to turn himself in if that was what was needed.

"Varric, go on ahead and let the twins and Aveline know I'm okay," I requested as we met the healer at the base of the Chantry stairs. I needed to talk to Anders about what happened and I was pretty sure he wasn't going to open up to multiple people at the moment. "You're much faster."

"I wouldn't say that," Varric protested. "I'm just quieter. But sure, I'll go off."

There was quite a bit of silence as Varric ran off and Anders and I followed him much more slowly. It took me a moment to figure out how to break it.

"So, let me guess," I began lightly. "This is where you say you're an abomination."

"Wrong, but not far off." I'd meant for that to be a joke, damn it. "When I was in Amaranthine, with the Wardens, I met a Spirit of Justice," he began to explain. "We, somehow, managed to become friends, in the midst of some arguing and debates."

"Okay?" How did a spirit end up outside the Fade?

"To continue living outside the Fade, he needed a host. He'd had one before, a corpse, and was… he didn't like it. I offered to help." He sighed. "Like I said, we'd become friends and I… well, I wanted to do what I could. But, I guess I had too much anger hidden inside. He… changed."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Must be rough."

"In a way." He sighed again. "Whenever I see something that outrages me, he comes out. But he is no longer the Justice I knew."

"Seemed rather on the merciless side."

"Justice is never merciful," he corrected. "Justice is hard, unyielding. But fair and equal.

"He's also blind," I pointed out. "You'll have to use your own eyes for him."

"I do my best."

Silence again. "So, what do you plan on doing now?"

"I'll continue helping out the refugees. They need it." He got a hard light in his eyes. "I think I'll also get involved with the Mage Underground here. Karl was a part of it, even after he got caught and was trapped in the Gallows. Since he can't again, I'll take up his share of the burden."

"Good luck." I couldn't really think of anything to say. Joking seemed inappropriate here and… well, there was nothing to reply to that.

"Why did you remain behind?" he asked, breaking the newfound silence.

"Someone needed to give an explanation, if we didn't want entire sections of Kirkwall burned down by angry templars." Sounds of fighting finally reached my ears. "I think we found the others." We turned to a side alley and saw a fight in progress. "Yeah, we found them." Aveline was thick in the fray with Varric supporting her with his crossbow. Bethany was trying to staunch the bleeding on a guardsman's head. As for Carver, he was leaning against a wall nearby, nursing his head.

"So, what's happened?" I asked, approaching him.

"Guy got hit onthe head frombehind," he explained quickly. Some of his words were slurred together. "Still fought well, but even'ally got too disorient. Luckily, Aveline jumped them. Reminded me of when we met her."

"Did _you_ take a blow to the head?"

"Maybe?"

"Hold still while I check for a concussion," Anders ordered. "I'll take care of him."

"I'm holding you to that," I replied, turning towards the others. "Okay, I'm going to help Bethany. I think Aveline and Varric have these thugs just fine." I didn't even wait for a reply as I skirted the battle to reach Bethany.

She looked up at me with relief. "I can't get the bleeding to stop!" she told me in a panic. "There's so much…!"

"Haven't I had you help me with head injuries before," I chided, kneeling down next to her and pulling some bandages out of my pack. I was always certain to carry some, and some herbal poultices, just in case. Between those things, and the locket and Will and that little note I'd have to read at some point, I had little room for anything else. It wasn't like I had some magical compartment that let me carry an infinite number of things without falling over. "The head bleeds a lot. The wound is actually quite shallow, see?" As I worked on cleaning the head wound, I using healing magic to check for internal damage. "Concussion, but nothing he won't recover from. Might be nauseous and dizzy for a few days, though." I glanced over my shoulder and laughed at how Aveline was shrugging off the thugs' attempts to attack her. Varric _was_ actually laughing, but mostly at how easily his 'Bianca' was ripping through them. "Doesn't look like they need our help, huh?"

"Nope." She sounded relieved. Then again, she was the most peaceful of us Hawke siblings. "Are you sure he'll be fine?"

"Yes, Bethany. But I _will_ recommend infirmary for a bit for him. Where's the satchel?"

"Over here." Bethany tugged it out from behind Donnic. "It's heavy."

"Look through it while I finish up. We should figure out what's in there."

"Guardsman Donnic!" Aveline called as she raced over to us.

I noticed Varric nudging some of the bodies, frowning. "What are the Coterie doing here?" he asked.

"No idea. Hawke, is he going to be-?"

"Aveline, you're a beautiful sight." …I almost burst out laughing at the stunned look on Aveline's face at Donnic's comment. Had she _not_ noticed him checking her out over the past… however long she's been working for the guard? "Uh… I mean…" And now he was backtracking. I was going to crack a rib, holding back laughter as I was. "I got ambushed and… um…" He glanced around, trying to find a way to keep from digging himself deeper and focused on Carver, who'd walked over to help Varric check the bodies. "I know you. You're the Fereldan that nearly got himself arrested after insulting a sneering noble." I groaned as I remembered that headache Carver had given me.

"S-So, Hawke, what are you doing?" Aveline asked me. She was adorably flustered.

"I _was_ tending to Donnic," I answered, smiling in amusement. She gave me a warning glare, so I opted to not tease her for once. "Anders? You mind checking my work if you're done with Carver?"

"Not at all," Anders replied, kneeling down next to me so that he could examine the wound more easily. "Carver's clear, by the way."

"Thanks." I smiled at my little brother. "Luckily, you've got a hard head, huh?"

"Haha," Carver grumbled. Obviously, the reminder of his encounter with the noble had squashed any humor he had. Damn it.

"So, what's Sunshine doing?" Varric asked as he fished out a cloth from his pocket to start wiping down 'Bianca'.

"Looking through the satchel," Bethany answered. She was already perfectly accepting of the nickname. "Sister, come see." Frowning, I knelt down and flipped through.

Carver whistled softly as he looked over my shoulder. "That's the seal of the viscount," he pointed out. "Office details. City accounts."

"Pretty valuable to a guild of thieves. Looks like he's elling out his own," I murmured. "Forget guard captain. This man should be in government."

"Not now, Hawke!" Aveline groaned. Varric, however, laughed outright.

"Here you go." I handed the packs and papers to her with a grin. "If you don't mind, I think the rest of us are going to head home."

"I don't mind at all," Aveline reassured. "I'm going to get Donnic to the infirmary and get _these_ to the Viscount." She nodded and smiled at all of us. "Thank you. Hopefully, things will go back to the way they should be with this." Hopefully indeed.

* * *

Despite the late hour, Mother and Uncle Gamlen were arguing, again. But this time, I had a way to cut off the argument without having to play peacekeeper. At least, for the moment. I knew this would lead to a whole different type of yelling.

"The slavers in the estate are dead," I announced with a winsome smile before casually walking over to Mother and handing over the Will. The twins closed the door behind them. Bethany was gleeful and annoyed. Carver was simply grim and tired.

"Huh?" Mother and Uncle Gamlen chorused. I couldn't tell who was more surprised. Mother recovered first, though, and started reading the Will.

"You won't believe it, Mother!" Bethany said as she bolted for her side. "Grandfather left everything to you."

"He had some sense on his deathbed, it seems," Carver added as he made his way to Mother's other side. "Uncle Gamlen here was to receive only a stipend controlled by you."

"…Gamlen…" Mother finally whispered, looking up at him with sad eyes. "How could you?"

"You're the one who ran!" he snapped. "Whatever happened to 'love conquers all' and all that junk!"

"It isn't junk!"

"You didn't even come to the funeral!"

"The twins were a week old!"

"And you didn't come afterwards! How long was I to wait?"

"Did you even wait for the ashes to get cold?" I wasn't aware the words had slipped out until Uncle Gamlen rounded on me. But I cut him off. "No, forget that. That was uncharitable of me." I shook my head and sighed. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. In fact, I'm suggesting that we all sleep on it. And by suggest, I mean that we're all going to bed if I have to cast Sleep on all of us. I _will_ do it. It is too damn late, and we're all too damn tired, to talk about this with any hint of friendliness."

I'd ended up resorting to a Sleep spell for Uncle Gamlen, but the twins went to bed quite quickly after my threat. Probably because they _knew_ I wasn't kidding when I said I'd resort to magic to get them to sleep. Mother just sat and continued reading the Will.

"Uncle Gamlen needs to eat more," I told her with a small laugh as I came to sit down beside her by the fire. I'd just got done wrestling my uncle into his hard bed and tucking the blankets around him. "He's too light."

"He was always too lean," she murmured as she set the Will to the side and leaned over to use my shoulder as a pillow. "I used to tease him about it. It was fun."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm sad that this happened. I'm angry that he thought he could do it. Yet, I'm also relieved, because it means that my parents didn't die with anger in their hearts. I'm glad that, in the end, they didn't hate me for my choice." She smiled at me. "They would've adored all three of you. I should've brought you to visit them."

"Don't worry so much. I'm sure they're having a lovely time at the Maker's side, being charmed and teased by Father and watching over us."

She laughed softly. "Yes, you're probably right. I know they would've loved him, if they could get past the fact that he was an apostate. Still, that is a regret."

"…Do you have many?"

"Mmm, not a lot." She smiled reassuringly. "I regret only sending a letter telling them about you. Even if they didn't reply, I should've sent more. I also wish I'd been better suited to the moving around lifestyle. Malcolm so preferred it."

"He liked farming too," I reminded her. I remembered Father being ridiculously happy at the blisters on his hands after helping out with the harvest. "And he liked being the healer for Lothering. Oh, and bargaining with the Chasind." Father had been one of the few the Chasind would trade with. I liked the Chasind. They always treated us with respect. "It was the quiet life he wanted."

"That's true." Her smile turned sad as she thought of Father. She still missed him horribly. "I loved that life. I was far happier in those years than I had been here in Kirkwall. I think my only regret is that I didn't do more to show it to my parents. And Gamlen. Perhaps things would've been better if I hadn't separated myself so neatly."

"Hey, we're muddling along just fine," I reassured. "You shouldn't fret so much. You're going to give yourself wrinkles."

"Time is doing that already!" She laughed. "I remember finding my first grey hair. Malcolm teased me silly over how dramatic I was being over it."

"I suppose it's the one perk of having white hair." I grinned. "Get to tease all the grey haired people without having to deal with it ourselves!"

"It certainly looks wonderful on you." She sighed dramatically. "I don't look so well with grey."

"Nonsense, Mother. You're the most beautiful woman in all of the Free Marches!"

"You certainly got your father's tongue." She smiled again. "Thank you, though, dear. It's good to hear a compliment."

We lapsed into a warm silence for a bit, just staring at the fire, before I remembered something. "Oh, I've another surprise for you!" I gasped. I couldn't believe I'd almost forgotten! "It's a much better one than the Will, promise."

"Is that so?" She smiled wryly. "Well, what is it?" Her smile became ecstatic when I produced the locket with the new chain. "Oh! You fixed it?"

"I got a new one. Much easier."

"Thank you, Althea." She laughed softly and put it back on. "Good. The next time it comes off, it had better be when I die."

"That's not going to happen for a long while, Mother."

"Well, of course not." She adopted a teasing look. Even though I knew I was about to be the target, I was glad to see that old look. She hadn't worn it since Father died. "I have to see my grandkids, after all."

"Oh, Mother!"

* * *

I'd gone to bed with a light heart after Mother teased me silly. I'd woken up with a neutral heart as I sensed something bad was about to happen. I'd stepped into the living room with a heavy heart as I saw Carver glaring at the embers of last night's fire. This wasn't going to be good.

"Where are Bethany and Uncle Gamlen?" I asked calmly. With luck, I could sidestep this and go through the day without an argument. "Mother is still asleep."

"I know," he growled. "I checked." So much for avoiding an argument. He was too grumpy. "Bethany dragged Uncle Gamlen outside for shopping. Something about getting his some sunlight to do him good. She was also yelling about betraying a sibling." Of course. Bethany couldn't even imagine the possibility.

"Something you need to tell me?" A joke could be appropriate here. "Like how life in Hightown is going to be?"

"Oh, please. We're a long way from cowing the templars with our titles." And the joke just made things worse. I thought longingly of Father. He could calm Carver with a simple smile and get him to talk, not argue. "We're just on the path to recover an old name for an old woman. And afterwards we'll just sit around on our asses and talk about how great we used to be."

"That 'old woman' is your mother, Carver."

"Mother didn't even want this life back until we got dumped here. You only care because of templar scrutiny." Okay, couldn't deny that. "Bethany's all sparkle eyed over the things she'll be able to buy, but I don't find it worth anything. It's just another chain."

"So, what would you do? Ignore it?"

"I didn't say that." He was warming to his topic. "Look at what went wrong. What could be fixed. But who needs an ancient name? We shouldn't be paying old debts to old men. Shouldn't be living in shadows."

"The middle child act is getting tiresome, brother," I grumbled.

"Try it from this side, always running after you. Always having to hide and suppress myself. If you couldn't protect us back in Lothering, I could've gone ahead and found my fortune."

…That _hurt_, damn it. So sorry for not being Father. "Do you fell better getting that off your chest?"

"I… I suppose?" He knew something was wrong.

"Good." My words were cold and biting. "Because I carry every death, every failure, with me. I've done _everything_ _I can_ for you. If you want the weight that's on my shoulders, then you'd better _damn _well be sure you're ready to take it." He didn't reply, just stared, so I took that as my cue to leave before I started hitting.

Even if he was being an ass, I couldn't bear the thought of hurting him.

* * *

I'd gone to the Keep on a whim, to check in on Aveline. I'd arrived just in time to see a craggily looking man in Guard armor get publically dragged out.

"Oh, Hawke!" one of the guards, the shorthaired brunette, called me over. "Come quick! Aveline's about to be named Jeven's successor, but she doesn't know it yet!" Oh, _this_ I have to see!

I managed to get inside the barracks before the old man was fully pulled out of the Barracks. "Fereldan bitch!" he was yelling, glaring directly at Aveline, who stood calmly next to a nicely dressed man I recognized as the Seneschal for the Keep. "I'll see you hanged! Quartered! You won't see the last of-!" One of the guards 'accidentally' banged the yelling man's head, dazing him enough to be silent the rest of the way out.

"Good timing, Hawke," the same guardswoman told me. "She deserves to have a bit of family here to see this." I was glad that I'd given in to that whim, then.

"How's Donnic?" I asked.

"Just fine." She pointed across to where Donnic was sitting in a chair, head expertly bandaged. "You did a great job." I almost protested, but then realized Aveline probably left Anders out of her report. After all, he was _openly_ an apostate and the less rumors about him, the likelier he was going to stay free.

"We found a number of debts to suspect people," the Seneschal sighed. "Such poor character. I am ashamed he even made the rank." He turned to face Aveline. "But you, Aveline Vallen, have proven yourself to be a woman of great integrity and ability."

"I only did my job, messere," Aveline replied modestly. "The guard deserves better than him."

"Indeed." The Seneschal had a touch of a smirk as he continued. "The viscount was most impressed by your record. He would prefer to put your care for the men into direct practice, as Captain of the Guard."

All of the guards cheered at the Seneschal's announcement; I cheered even louder than them. Aveline was stunned into silence. This really was the _perfect_ remedy to the hurt I'd experienced earlier this morning.

The Seneschal said a few more things to Aveline, the words drowned out by the cheers, and then disappeared. The guards milled about, talking excitedly, but giving Aveline some space. I, being a dear friend and, thus, having no such qualms, just walked into the Captain's Office where Aveline was just standing, staring, and looking like she had no idea what happened.

"Thank you, Wesley," she finally whispered, sitting down at the desk.

"Thanks for the dead, but not for the living," I teased, sitting on the shelf right behind her so that I could dangle my legs. I hadn't done something like that since I was little. "If I didn't know you, I'd be insulted."

"Oh, Hawke," she laughed. "You know I owe you too."

"The fact that you're still holding onto his memory speaks well of him."

"He was a good man. I know he's not with me. He's either at the Maker's side, or he isn't. Either way, he knows no more pain. And I hold onto my resolve to never fail someone like that again."

"Do you not think he's at the Maker's side?" I asked, surprised.

"He believed. If he was correct, then I know that's exactly where he is."

"But you married a templar."

"I married a man," she correctly gently. "A very good one who believed in the Chant. I don't know what to believe. I don't find the whole business of 'the less He does, the more He is proven' very compelling. But the Chant itself is pretty and reassuring. Perhaps that's all it needs to be."

Getting a little to philosophical for my tastes here. "So, the Guard Captain is in my pocket…"

"Hawke, no." She gave me a stern look. "Don't even joke about that."

"Aw, you never let me have fun." I laughed. "Relax. I'll be good. Mostly."

"I know. I trust you."

"But I guess you won't be following me around anymore."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." She smiled at me. "Since you're going to do good, it seems appropriate to help you out. Besides, I'll be making a patrol schedule and have no intention of leading from a desk. I also intend of training the guards personally, to ensure no one is shirking."

"Just make sure you befriend them," I told her. "If you're going to be a stern taskmaster, you need to show them that you're flexible."

"With thinking like that, you should be in a leadership role."

"Yeah, no." I smiled awkwardly. "I'd be horrible."

"Don't sell yourself so short." She smiled wryly. "Then again, you don't trust authority, do you?"

"I don't trust bullshit," I corrected immediately.

"You label authority as bullshit." …Probably set myself up for that one.

"Well, not yours. I listen to you. Mostly."

"And I know you do good, so I don't mind the few times you don't." She glanced around the office a bit. "I actually feel like celebrating a bit. Hanged Man?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Let's invite some of the other guards, too. Get to know them on a personal level, like I said."

"Yes, that's a good idea. I may be succeeding Jeven, but I won't be like him."

Now, if only raising the money for the expedition needed will go this smoothly. Then everything would be fine and I could retreat into obscurity, where I'd be perfectly happy.

* * *

Author's note: 'Inheritance' refers to three things. The Birthright quest proper, Anders succeeding Karl (not in game, but I like the idea), and Aveline succeeding Jeven at the end of her quest. Opening scene here is poking fun at the long loading times. Sorry for the second long chapter.  
This chapter is brought to you earlier than expected thanks to the awesomeness that was the Inquisition Teaser Trailer~ also, lots of sugar. But mostly the trailer. I put parts on it in here, linking it to Hawke having 'weird dreams' in her scene in Awakening.

I couldn't think of a reason why there were no other consequences to the Tranquility quest. Like, you know, a bunch of dead people in the Chantry, but no one seems to care? I decided to have some fun alleviating that. 'Spellbind' is mentioned in _The World of Thedas_ as being a slur against mages, rather like 'knife-ear' for an elf. Since that word _never_ seemed to appear in any of the games or books that I've read, I'm inserting some of it here, for the more zealous templars.

The comment about Carver almost getting arrested actually comes from dialogue with Bethany in Act I, talking about how she thought Carver would be in Kirkwall. She specifically mentions that would happen. How could I not sneak that in?

Why are the guards cheering? Some probably like Aveline. Others are probably just glad Jeven's gone. It's mentioned in the Codex (I think) that, so long as you've been doing her Companion Quests, Aveline is a harsh taskmaster, but she takes the time to get to know her guardsmen, so they don't mind as much, and she is well-liked by them.

This should be the last of the multi-quest chapters, I think?

Next chapter – In the House of the Maker, a break chapter where Hawke's doing some of her penance.


	6. Chapter 5) In the House of the Maker

**Free Marches – Kirkwall – Hightown – Kirkwall Chantry – 9:31**

_In the House of the Maker_

* * *

"_So, the Captain of the Guard was on her side," the Seeker murmurs. "That would allow her to avoid the law."_

"_You're missing the fact that Aveline believed that good should always trump the law," the dwarf points out. "Within reason, of course. Some laws are there for a reason. The things you're trying to accuse Hawke of? There's no way Aveline would've let her do that."_

"_Need I remind you what happened?"_

"_The only blame for that was a demon who finally took control of his abomination. Don't you _dare_ blame Hawke for that."_

"_Or what?"_

"_I walk out and you have no help at all."_

"…_Continue."_

"_How about a nice short section? I'm getting tired of talking. You know it's bad when the storyteller is getting tired of talking."_

"_I'll send for some water. Now, keep talking."_

* * *

The Chantry was much warmer in the sunlight. Then, there were people milling about, shouting the Chant, doing charity work, etc, etc. It actually felt alive, instead of a place filled with dead people.

"So, the Brother who was to be tending to the brazier was told to hide by the templars and he'd assumed they'd already gotten your approval, so he obeyed?" I asked as I hefted a box up. Though my penance was just to attend the Days of Worship, and report to the Grand Cleric to show that I was present and not shirking, I felt obligated to help clean the place once I'd seen the full extent of the damage. After all, the main reason it was a mess was because of Anders's… freak out over Karl being Tranquil and I was responsible for that incident.

"Yes. The poor boy was beside himself when he learned the truth," the Grand Cleric answered. Her eyes shone with amusement. "I've got him on cleaning duty right now. He felt he had to do _something_ to atone."

"So you gave him a light punishment so that he felt like he was atoning, but is really benefiting you and letting you go light." I shot a smile over my shoulder as I carried the box over to one of the study areas. It was across the room from where Karl died. That area was barred for investigation, and for extensive repair and cleaning. "Clever."

"Oh, you speak as if I had ulterior motives." This was Kirkwall. I've already learned there was no such thing as a truly nice person here. Not if they were alive. "This is not Orlais, child. Good people can survive and thrive here." Yeah, right. "But may I ask something?"

"You just did." I couldn't resist the oldest joke in the book and was rewarded with an exasperated sigh. "What is it, ma'am?"

"It is dangerous to take so many jobs and dangerous to chase after a criminal." She studied my face. "Why did you not just talk to the City Guard? I have heard you are friends with quite a few."

I didn't answer her immediately, trying to think of what to say as I reached the top of the stairs. Without thinking, I looked down at the burning brazier. "I have that which I must protect," I finally whispered, staring at the flame. The vision of that battlefield was still flickering in the corner of my eye. I needed to work up the courage to talk to Varric about it. And work up the courage to ask Mother if there were any abilities common to Amell mages. Father never had _this_ happen to him. "Even from the hands of the Maker, if that's the case. That is my burden. I will not force it onto another."

"Careful of such talk," the Grand Cleric advised. She'd followed me up, probably so that she could hear me. "It will bring you pain."

"I'd bear all the pain of the world if that was what it took." I looked her straight in the eye. "I am only afraid of failing."

"Truly?" She smiled sadly. "Many would list 'magic' as a fear."

"That's because they fear the unknown. Magic isn't something to be afraid of." No, I'd never been afraid of magic. It was beautiful and comforting. Even blood magic was charming, in its dark, twisted way. I feared what would happen if I failed to keep control of both my magic and myself, but that was a fault of mine, not of magic.

"Meredith shall not like you," she chuckled. "Try to keep your interactions with Cullen."

"Sure." More like 'try not to get involved with more templars'. That would be the saner action. I really needed to stay on the 'sane' path, as much as possible.

"But I do not understand why you don't take a regular job." I wasn't surprised. Many of the guard had expressed something similar. Flames, Aveline even nagged me a little. "You were a mercenary before as well. Was it not profitable?"

"The way of life disagreed with me." And by 'disagreed', I meant 'people were starting to put pieces together'. "Mother worried so much."

"Then why not the Guard?"

"Why the questions?"

"It is one of the jobs of the Chantry to assist the jobless." She smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, many of our efforts cannot help the poor Fereldan refugees. Free Marchers are furious over them appearing with their willingness to work for mere coppers instead of decent wages. Many deny them work, or attack them to cripple them and make them unable."

"I'm a Fereldan refugee," I reminded her as I set down the box on a table and put the books inside on a shelf nearby.

"You wouldn't know it by the gossip." Now she was amused. "Your accent is Fereldan, but your clothing is Free Marcher. Your looks are… something else, perhaps?" They were whatever Father had been. He'd never opened up about his life before being a mercenary. He counted himself as 'Fereldan', mostly because all of his children were Fereldan by birth and because it was the place he'd found real happiness. But where he was born? Not a clue. But whatever it was, I had a lot of the looks. Out of all of Father's children, I was the one who took after him. Carver and Bethany favored the Amell side of the family. …That reminded me; I needed to look at that portrait and letters I swiped from the vault. "Child, are you listening to me?"

…Nope. "Give me a moment to come up with a witty retort?"

She laughed. "I figured as much. I made a mention of dragons attacked the city and you didn't even blink." She shook her head. "I can see your thoughts trouble you."

"Not trouble," I corrected. "Just consuming. I've a lot on my mind."

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Oh, it would just bore you silly."

"You haven't heard what I listen to on a daily basis." It was my turn to laugh at her comment. "Well, if you do not wish to talk, I will be off. I need to prepare for my next sermon. Call if you need me, but do take a break. You've been working non-stop for quite some time." Oh, but I was just fine. This was nice light training compared to my normal workout. …My normal workout that I was completely behind on. Damn it. I'd probably camp out tonight to catch up without anyone paying attention. Of course, I'd need a good excuse, and pacifying gifts for Mother in the morning…

Deciding to take that breather so that I could get my thoughts straight, I sat down in a convenient chair by the shelves and rested my head against the warm wood of the Chantry. This place was surprisingly sturdy, I noticed as I looked up at the beams and ceiling. It surprised me how much damage Anders, or rather Justice, had done. I should keep him away from here, in case he accidentally did more. As my thoughts turned to the memory of that fight, I remembered that note I'd picked up from one of the dead templars and pulled it out to read. I frowned as I read that the templar I'd taken it from had apparently been an unwilling participant in Karl's Tranquility. More importantly, though, he'd been threatened by a 'Ser Alrik'. Bastard.

"Grand Cleric?" I called softly. Possibly too softly. Should I call louder?

"Yes, my child?" she replied, walking back over. Somehow, she'd heard me. She also noticed something wrong instantly. "What troubles you? You were fine but a moment ago."

"I decided to check through my pack and realized I'd accidentally picked up a piece of paper with my mother's locket." I passed the note to her, hoping she didn't spot the lie. "I didn't think anything of it, but… well, it looks like a note, ma'am."

"Aye, and an important one." She was frowning as she read it. "I will give this to Meredith immediately. This is not the first time Ser Alrik has exchanged letters of troubling words." She tucked the note into a hidden pocket and looked at me. "What is your opinion on Tranquility?"

Well, that was a sudden question. "I think it's a fate worse than death that others try to claim is a mercy." …Might've been a little too blunt there, Hawke… "I know I would rather be dead than have no emotions or dreams." Even if my magic was giving me some damn weird dreams as of late. And visions. Really needed to ask Mother what she knew about Amell family mages. It might not be much, but maybe there was _something_ she'd heard. After all, she'd remember hearing that her cousin Revka's children all demonstrated some sort of fire magic early before being shipped all over Thedas. The Circle didn't want to keep families together, so siblings were automatically sent to different cages. One ended up in Fereldan, I think.

"Many mages speak the same thing, though not quite as bluntly." Luckily, she was more amused than anything else. It seemed she took everything with good humor. Then again, from what I heard about the Knight-Commander, she'd have to. "However, I believe that is the first time I've heard that opinion from a non-mage."

So long as she kept believing that I wasn't a mage, I could get through anything. "What? Not many mage sympathizers?"

"Not in Kirkwall. The templars keep their grip strong. Perhaps too much so." Her smile took an edge to it. "I doubt, however, that it shall remain that way for long. The incident here has spread like wildfire. No names, of course, but the basics. It will take the templars some time to regain favor."

"For chasing down a mage in the Chantry?"

"For attacking an innocent civilian because she happened to be in the company of a mage, without once asking." …Part of me felt guilty for my lie causing so much trouble. On the other hand, they were templars, so it balanced out. Mostly. "Also, forgive me, but I could use your height for something."

"No worries," I laughed, standing up. "I'm here to help."

"Yes, but I just told you to rest," she sighed. "This way please." She led the way to the dais she used to preach from. Behind her was a giant statue of Andraste, dressed in armor that looked similar to the modern templar uniform. One hand wielded a sword, but the other was resting on a _giant_ stone slab. "I can't quite reach, but do you see that smear of dust?" She pointed to the slab and I found what she was referring to after a moment. "Can you wipe that off for me? It's just out of reach."

"Sure," I whispered. I had to get on tiptoes in order to reach, but I got it off easily. Letters were etched into the stone; it was almost covered with words. As I brought my hand down, though, I realized the words were names. "This is…?"

"It's the memorial for templars," she explained. "During the Chant of Remembrance, I read out the names of those who recently lost their lives in the line of duty. When the slab is filled, it is placed out back as another piece of the memorial wall and a new one is installed. If you ever need a reminder for the sacrifices of the Order, you would do well to walk around back to see them."

Nodding absently at her words, I looked through the names, reading each one carefully. This one, at least twice my height and ten times my width, was almost full. "How do you add one?"

"By informing me. Who is it?"

"His name was Wesley Vallen. He was a templar who did his best to save people from the Blight as he hunted for his wife. He helped my family escape, but the taint… he had to be mercy killed."

"The Blight stole many young futures," she whispered forlornly. She placed a gentle hand at a section of names, the most recent ones. They, too, must've died during the Blight. How many more would've died if the Hero of Fereldan hadn't pulled a miracle? "Yes, I shall add him to the names. I would be honored."

"Thank you." Hopefully, Aveline wouldn't mind. "Now, what else do you need me to do?"

* * *

Author's Note – Even though I am not doing Sebastian's DLC, there are some things that I like from his party banter. One of these was the fact that he added Wesley's name to a wall to be read during a 'Chant of Remembrance'. Seeing as he doesn't exist in the particular novelization, I have shifted that job to Hawke. The note Hawke finds can be looted from one of the templars at the end of the battle in Tranquility, but only during combat. Once combat ends, it's lost due to the cutscene.

Just some interactions between Hawke and Elthina. A nice, short chapter after two heavy, and long, chapters. …Might actually be too short, but eh?

Revka is mentioned to be the mother of the Human Mage Warden in Dragon Age 2, a cousin to Leandra. The explanation about splitting siblings between the different circles is more of a head canon, but it's based on the knowledge that mages are heavily implied/out right stated to not be able to have families. Does this mean that there's an Amell in the Gallows right now? …Maybe?

Next Chapter – Bait and Switch. …This one might end up long. But it _will_ be a single quest in a chapter, so that's good, right?


	7. Chapter 6) Bait and Switch

**Free Marches – Kirkwall – 9:31**

_Bait and Switch_

* * *

"_I am confused," the Seeker murmurs thoughtfully._

"_About?" the dwarf asks tiredly, sipping a glass of water. He is glad for it; his throat is hurting already, and he isn't even done with the first 'act' of the story._

"_She had numerous companions, did she not?"_

"_I wouldn't say 'numerous', but yes, she did."_

"_But why have only a handful appeared? Where are the rest?"_

"_What kind of story has all the available companions appear at once?" he demands. "This isn't a story about childhood friends and family. She met them one at a time, same as everyone else. Seriously, we need to work on your theories."_

"_Dwarf, you're trying my patience," she growls._

"_Yet you need my help." He smirks as she glowers. "Ah, but you're in luck, Seeker. The next segment introduces one of those companions. The grouchy elf."_

* * *

I knew something was wrong from the start. I'd returned home from an all-night training session, with a bunch of wildflowers to placate Mother and fresh fruit for the twins to devour, to find that Meeran had sent me a note saying he had a job for me. All well and good, but Meeran wouldn't have given me anything he thought his own men could do. Therefore, I knew this job was dangerous and troublesome, not nearly worth the effort and risks for the pay.

So, it came to no surprise when my contact, a dwarf named Anso, mentioned lyrium for templars. It also came to no surprise that there were multiple holes in his story and, thus, letting me know there was a lot more going on than a simple 'recover the chest'. Especially since I had to go to the Alienage, at night, when everyone was mysteriously trapped in their rundown houses instead of looking for more work.

I sighed and looked around the place. In the middle of the area was a giant tree, the only thing that looked alive in this slum that someone in the past had decided to 'generously gift' to the freed elves. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad that the place was still better than what I saw in Darktown. Shaking my head, I went to where Anso claimed the goods were. I was alone, simply because I knew there was something wrong. I didn't want anyone else getting caught up in this. Aveline would kill me if she knew.

Inside the house was nothing. Someone had taken the time to clean it out, even of loose rubble and dust. "This just screams 'trap'," I muttered to myself as I searched for the chest. "This better get me some decent coin. Doubt it, of course, but…" I found the chest, sighed again, and knelt down to open it. That was when I got my first surprise of the night. It was empty. "Who leaves all of this for an empty chest?" That made no sense. Anso had some explaining to do. Maybe I _should_ report him to the guard.

That decision was still up in the air as I stepped outside to see myself surrounded by a decent sized group of some angry people in foreign armor.

"That's not the elf," one growled.

"Forget that," another snapped. "Our orders were to capture anyone who came after that chest!"

"I take it you all aren't here to parley," I said lightly. They drew swords. "I guess not." And, really, just sword users? I liked swords as much as the next girl, but couldn't they get a little variety? Maybe an axe? Pole-arm? A mace? Actually, no, forget that. Couldn't they get some _competent_ people? I wasn't even having to resort to dirty tricks like groin attacks and dirt in the face to kill these people.

"What… what are you?" one eventually asked. He'd been smart and stayed out of the way. Actually, it was probably more like he'd had so much confidence in his comrades that he felt he could be lazy. Either way, though, he was the only one left behind.

"Now, do you think you can tell me what's going on?" I asked politely as I slung some of the blood off my sword. Their pride had allowed me to sneak in through dropped guards to deal quick and deadly blows, thank the Maker. "It's tiring to just kill people who aren't very good."

"You're going to wish you were never born!"

"Can't you come up with a more original threat?"

"Lieutenant!" he snapped instead of answering. For a moment, I thought he was trying to tell me his name, but then I heard footsteps on the stairs. Oh, great. Just what I wanted. More people to brutalize. Actually, this level of sarcasm was getting painful, even in my own head. Though, the guy who was stumbling down and spewing blood was probably in more pa… wait, what?

"Your trap has failed," a voice stated coldly. It had a distinct accent I couldn't place. "Your men are dead." The speaker came around the corner then, right in time with the spewer falling down the rest of the stairs.

"You…!" the order-man growled. I focused on the newcomer, trying to find anything that identified him. An elf with pale hair and dark skin that looked as if he had a permanent scowl. Odd, glowing tattoos covered what parts of him weren't encased in the dark steel armor he was wearing. All of it combined to say that he wasn't from around here at all. "You slave!"

"I am not a slave!" the elf snapped. His tattoos glowed for a brief second and then he shoved his hand through the order-man's chest. …Wait, no. It wasn't 'through', but 'in'. With no visible wounds. How was _that_ possible? I'd never heard of magic that could do that…

Slave. Unusual magic. I knew where this elf was from now.

"What brings a Tevinter elf all the way here to Kirkwall?" I asked carefully as the order-man fell and died. I tried not to pay much attention. The elf was far more dangerous at the moment and, thus, deserved my full attention.

"You know I am from Tevinter?" He sounded on edge.

"I've seen a lot of magic in my life, and what you did wasn't a magic I know, so I took a guess." I answered quickly, hoping that he'd _not_ try to kill me. I wasn't sure how to defend myself from an attack like that, unless it didn't allow him to bypass magic. I was still having trouble with shields, though, so it wouldn't be much help knowing that. "Who are you, anyway? And who are these men?"

"My name is Fenris," he answered cautiously. "These men were Imperial bounty hunters, seeking to recover a magister's lost… property."

"Meaning you," I guessed. "As an escaped slave."

"You're quite intelligent."

"There are enough hints that I think a three year old could pick it out." Still, this was quite the effort. He was no mere slave. "Not to change the subject, but those markings are unusual."

"Yes…" He sounded uncomfortable. "I did not receive them by choice, I think, yet they have served me well."

He _thought_ he didn't receive them by choice? Filing that away for later. "They…" As I studied them, I swore they felt like lyrium. "Glow. I'm guessing that makes it a lot harder to hide."

"Quite so."

"I don't suppose I could touch them." Surely it couldn't be pure lyrium. Not even dwarves survived that. So, it should be safe. And I was horribly curious about what sort of magic it was.

"They give me constant pain," he growled. "Especially when touched."

"You know, a simple 'no' would've done the job," I pointed out. "I know that was a forward question." I smiled at him, hoping it would ease the tension, even as I was mentally kicking myself for getting carried away. "Sorry. They're quite pretty. Match your eyes." When in doubt, go for compliments. Father liked that tactic. It confused people and made them more susceptible to talking.

"They… huh?" His scowl disappeared for confusion. Now that he wasn't brooding, I noticed he was actually quite handsome. I wondered if that caused… trouble back in the Imperium. No way to really ask _that_, though.

"If the observation makes you uncomfortable, feel free to ignore it." I shrugged, fishing for a topic. "So, what are you planning on doing?"

"I have to find Danarius," he growled. "I must confront him."

"I get the feeling that there's going to not be a lot of talking." I knelt down the nearby bodies, searching them for a hint.

"He wishes to strip the flesh from my bones and has sent many hunters to their deaths to do just that. Before that he kept me on a leash, as a personal _pet_." As he glowered, I got the feeling that he was one bad day away from an ulcer, stroke, or some other health problem. That much anger was bad for the body. "So, yes. I intend to fight."

"Looks like the start of a long night," I sighed, before pulling out a note from the order-man's pack. It was a message to just report back to a house in Hightown. "I've an address. Shall we?"

"Ah, yes." He looked startled. "Thank you… um…"

Very angry normally, but catch him off guard, and he was quite adorable. "Hawke. Call me Hawke."

* * *

"Sister, who is this?" That was Carver's greeting as Fenris and I happened to run into him in Hightown. He'd been hanging out with Varric, and apparently the two were about to go for drinks when they saw us. Carver's glower didn't speak well of a good first impression.

"This is Fenris," I answered with a smile. "Fenris, meet Carver, my little brother, and Varric, the dwarf who's helping our family."

"Hello," Fenris replied curtly. He matched Carver's glare with one of his own. This wasn't good.

"Junior, I'm pretty sure you can quit the protective little brother routine," Varric laughed. "I think Hawke can take care of herself just fine."

The tension lightened a little, enough for me to focus on my confusion. "What do you mean 'protective brother routine'?" I asked, trying to figure out what was going on. "He does that for Bethany, sure, but there's no reason to do so for me."

"Because you can take care of yourself."

"Because the ones that need it are… never mind." I sighed, not wanting to get into that. "Anyway, Carver, play nice. He's a client."

"And what's the job?" Carver growled. He had a hand on my arm and was trying to tug me away from Fenris.

"Killing a slaver. Now what is wrong with you? You didn't act this way around Anders."

"Anders wasn't alone with you. Though I'm sure he'd _love_ the chance."

"Carver, what on Thedas are you talking about?"

"So, we're killing slavers again?" Varric asked, quickly changing the subject. "Awesome. I love nailing slavers. Anything special about these?"

"A Magister," Fenris answered bluntly.

"Oh. Well, I've always wanted to try out that dwarf resistance to magic." Varric, I could use your sarcastic cheer. I would beg for lessons one day. "Where to?"

"We're not far," I answered slowly, deciding to just focus on the job. "It's this house not far away, according to the address we looted." I pointed vaguely in the direction of the place.

Varric nodded. "I've a feeling I know the place. Belongs to a merchant who no one has seen for quite some time."

"Let's hope that it's just because he was scared away and not something worse."

* * *

Carver walked right up to the desolate looking mansion as we approached and tried the door. "I'm sure this will come as a great big shock, but it's locked," he stated with a scowl.

"Carver, we're dealing with a Magister," I reminded him slowly. "That door could've been trapped."

"With…? Oh, magic." He looked embarrassed now. "I keep forgetting that there are bad mages."

Fenris looked ready to rant, so I turned to face Varric. "Can you unlock it?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah, no problem," he answered, just as quickly. "Junior, over here. Sometimes the locks can only be picked when there's a certain amount of pressure." I was pretty damn sure that was a flat out lie, but it kept Carver busy and away from Fenris. Meaning that I had to make sure Fenris didn't go after Carver and then we would be all right. Mostly.

"So, is he after you directly, or just the markings on your skin?" I asked him as Varric went to work on the lock. "Danarius, I mean."

"The latter, mostly." Fenris smiled bitterly as he answered. "I'm sure he regrets letting me slip my leash."

"So, he's waiting here for the 'good news', I take it?"

"If he is still here, he is no doubt aware we are here outside and is preparing to be a proper host, by his terms."

"Ah, glorious." I sighed. "A prepared mage. I do so love the smell of blood in the evening." Varric signaled he was done. That was quick. Too quick. "He better not have the first step inside trapped. I'm going to be very mad if he does."

* * *

The front wasn't trapped, but I still found my anger boiling. The place reeked with blood magic and death. It didn't take long to figure out why. Someone had performed a ritual sacrifice for power. Three dead elves hidden in a closet said who'd been chosen for the 'honor'.

"Sister, you've been staring at that closet for a while," I heard Carver say. I quickly shut the door and whirled to face him. He was frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Just do yourself a favor and don't look in there."

"Why?"

"Because… because, Carver, I don't want you to see what happens when a mage doesn't have morals."

His frown deepened. "I'm nineteen, Sister, and I fought in an army."

Yes, but… "If you think that either of those things prepares you for seeing the insides of a person, be my guest," I snapped. "But, considering your nightmares recently, I highly doubt that!"

"Hawke, Junior!" And Varric to the rescue again. Marvelous. "We've got company!" Not so marvelous.

"These are…?" Carver asked as we immediately drew our weapons and stood back-to-back to guard each other.

I looked at the moving things of sludge that vaguely resembled something like a hunched-over humanoid and sighed. "They're called 'shades'," I explained. "Meet a demon in its natural form. But let's kill them quickly. It feeds on the living."

"I feel fine, though."

"Might be a magic potential protecting you or maybe they're not very strong?"

"Magic potential? Great. I have to worry about my own kids having it?"

"You have two sisters and a father for mages."

"I missed it." And I'd never been able to figure out if he hated it, or was glad for it.

"Are you two going to argue or fight?" Fenris snapped. He and Varric were slowly creeping closer as we were being surrounded by the shades.

"Who's arguing?" I asked innocently. "We're behaving, aren't we, Carver?"

"Of course, Sister," he agreed easily. I was certain it was more to mess with Fenris, but it was still fun that he was playing along. "Just as always."

"Look, as much as I like joking, I don't know how to face these things," Varric sighed. "I already tried my normal tactic of charming them into doing what I want. Surprisingly, it didn't work."

"We attack," Fenris stated.

"Well, yeah," I agreed. "But you can't just jump into the group and expect to get out alive."

"I've done so before."

"Against shades? I think not."

"They might have been. Danarius had so much fun pointing and telling me to 'fetch'. I stopped paying attention after a while."

"What a lame man."

"Still fishing for ideas," Varric interrupted. "Someone?"

"Well, does anyone have a talent for fighting mage creations?" I waited for an answer. "No?"

"Sister, if you've got a plan, then say it," Carver grumbled. "Don't drag it out."

"I was hoping for a better one." I sighed. "Okay, Varric? You mind being a dear?"

"I love helping a lovely lady," Varric answered without missing a beat. "What do you need?"

"You carrying any flasks?"

"Hawke, is this your way of saying we need a last drink?"

"Not that kind. Smokescreen."

"Oh, those. Yeah, one moment." He pulled two out and kicked them at the shades. Somehow or another, they didn't hit us, but did hit the targets. Splendid.

"Okay, now, hopefully while they're disoriented, beat them to death."

"_That's_ your plan?" Carver complained.

"I told you I was looking for a better one," I snapped. "I don't even know whether this will work!" Fenris charged one and lopped off its 'head' without much trouble. "Or maybe it will."

"I take it you don't see many demons around here, Varric?" I joked as we whirled into the fight.

"Not _those_ demons," he sighed, launching a bolt into a shade's head. He kept himself at my back, likely because Carver and Fenris were just swinging haphazardly. "There's plenty of them hiding out in the Merchants' Guild, disguised as dwarves."

"Do I need to do a job for you?"

"Hawke, technically speaking, you're doing a _bunch_ of jobs for me already, one of which will include making sure my handsome self survives the Deep Roads." He happily took out the last one. "So, how many do you have, Hawke?"

"What?"

"Kills."

"I... I didn't keep track!"

"Well, while you tally up, I'll get to work on this next door." He whistled a tune as he waltzed off. I didn't even bother pointing out that there was no way to 'tally up' as the shades had evaporated upon death. Instead, I walked over to Fenris, who was wound tighter than a spring.

"If he thinks that his _pets_ will stop me…" he growled. I wasn't sure if he knew I was nearby.

"When we get through this, see me for a potion," I told him seriously. "There is no way you're healthy with all this anger." I had the sneaking suspicion that sending him to Anders wouldn't be good, even though I was certain Anders would've been the much better choice.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll chase you down, you know."

"She really will," Carver helpfully added, jumping into the conversation. "Trust me. When I went to Ostagar, I had an injury, and she actually took a trip all the way down because I forgot the balm I was supposed to use on it." He shook his head, but his eyes were sad. "That took forever to live down. The others teased me silly over it."

But I could tell he'd give anything right now to have them tease him again. Carver rarely talked of Ostagar, but he did tell me, once, that he'd been the only one of his squad to survive. "So, there you go, Fenris. It'll be easier if you just get that potion." Fenris muttered something, but I couldn't understand it. "I'm going to assume that's an agreement."

"Hey, door's open!" Varric called. "It's strangely warm, though, so I think I might've gotten a tra…" He swung the door open to reveal a rage demon just waiting for us. "Sweet Andraste's ass! What is that?!"

"Rage demon," Fenris growled. How fitting. "Down, dwarf!"

"Oh, I know just what _your_ nickname's going to be," Varric laughed as he ducked under the rage demon's claw and rolled out of the way of Fenris's greatsword. I frowned when I noticed that the rage demon didn't go down immediately. Strange, they weren't _that_ resilient. Rage demons were the weakest of the demons, if I was remembering my lessons correctly. So, why…?

"Damn that Danarius!" Fenris snapped. "He's used blood magic to empower it!" Wait, you could do that? Oh, this wasn't going to be fun.

"Then let's try getting it into some place colder?" I suggested. Fenris ignored me and charged the thing into the room that we knew nothing about. "You idiot! Stop being all macho and angry and think, damn you!" I chased after him.

"Wait, if he's being an idiot, then why are you following?" I heard Varric ask. I didn't answer as I glanced about the large open room where it was nearly impossible to find a good place to hide. I had to say one thing about Danarius; he knew where to put the majority of his forces. Where he got the power to summon so many shades and abominations, I was afraid to find out.

"Fenris!" I called when I noticed he was entirely focused on the rage demon, and not on the things slowly approaching. He didn't seem to hear me at all. "Oh, for crying out…!" I'd probably regret this, but I couldn't just stand by and watch someone get hurt for being a hothead; Carver would've had a lot more injuries if I could. I reached out my hand, called out to the moisture in the air with my magic, urged it to freeze, and quickly closed my hand into a fist. Winter's Grasp, one of the most basic of ice spells, quickly struck the rage demon, making it roar in pain. Even if it was empowered, a rage demon always died laughable quick when exposed to ice spells.

Still, I hissed and cradled my hand to my chest as it suddenly throbbed. I attempted to uncurl it, but found the joints creaking together. I'd held back too much, and was paying for it. I tried to keep myself calm, smiling even, as I looked around to check the number of shades and abominations making their way down from the second floor to envelop us. Only once did I glance at Fenris; he was staring at me like he was trying to figure me out. Terrific. Maybe I could ask Varric to help me bullshit my way out of a confrontation.

"What's the plan?" Varric called as he aimed his crossbow. "Can Bianca just snipe them?"

"Yeah, sure," I confirmed. I kept my hand against my chest and brought up my sword into a mostly defensive position. "Try not to get surrounded. You'll go down fast if you do."

"Unless you're Elf and you're really mad." I glanced over at Fenris and saw him just attacking the things, going partially intangible when they tried to attack him.

"Keep acting like this and I'm going to assume you've a death wish," I called, slashing through a shade that was trying to sneak up on him.

"I wish for Danarius's death," Fenris retorted. Was that supposed to be a joke? "Just what are you doing?"

"Attempting to make sure you stay alive?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to?" Was this really the time to be asking?

"Junior's taken a hit!" Varric's warning shifted my attention away from the infuriating elf to my (sometimes) infuriating little brother. Carver was down on one knee, bleeding from on his leg. He was doing a good job fighting, but a two-handed sword wasn't made for fighting from a kneeling position.

"Carver!" I yelled. He raised his head to show he heard me, but when he tried to stand, he couldn't. Where had that shade hit? "Carver, duck!" He knew me enough to obey immediately, letting me drop my sword and shoot off lighting immediately to shock the shades trying to engulf my little brother.

"Thanks, Sister!" Carver called back. I was surprised by his gratefulness. At least, I assumed it was gratefulness. It didn't _sound_ sarcastic.

I rushed over, throwing away thoughts of shades and abominations. My little brother was in trouble. "What happened? Normally one hit wouldn't get you."

"Yeah, but I stepped wrong after dodging a follow-up attack." He grimaced. "It hit deeper than I thought, so the pain startled me." Now he was starting to grumble and get defensive.

"Twisted ankle?" I smiled slightly. "Well, it's better than that time you jumped on a bronto."

"I was five! Five! How do you remember that?"

"You were my first patient because of that. It's like your first kiss; you never really forget."

"That sounds like something Bethany would say."

"I hope you're not mocking your little sister, mister."

"Are you going to heal me or leave me to suffer?"

"Tempted to do the latter." But, as always, I actually _did_ the former. Healing magic rarely caused me pain because there didn't seem to be a side effect for a 'too powerful' healing spell. The healing magic also helped ebb away the lingering ache from the earlier spells, so it was a good choice all around, for once. "There we go. Need help up?"

"No, I can do that myself." And now he was growling and sulking. Fantastic. "Damn it. Looks like Varric and Fenris got the last ones."

"Then let's see whether our magister stuck around." I left Carver to grumble and followed Fenris up the stairs. I had no time to deal with his mood swings, particularly since I wasn't sure why he'd sudden go into a bad mood.

"Here," Fenris growled as I walked up. "If he is anywhere, it would be here." He swung the door open, but didn't walk inside. In fact, he seemed to freeze.

"Need help up there, Hawke?" I heard Varric call up. He'd remained down below, likely the safest place now that the things were gone.

"No, we're fine," I replied. "Fenris? Is he there?"

"No," he whispered. "He's gone. I had hoped… no, that doesn't matter. I assume there are some valuables left. Take them, if you wish. I… I need some air." He blew past us, leaving us wondering what was going on.

But when I looked into the room to see it splattered in blood and corpses, I knew what had troubled him. Despite my wishes, I had found out_ exactly_ how Danarius had gotten the power for the things that attacked us. Maker, some of the bodies here couldn't have been much older than twelve. Likely, Danarius had also used it as a way to ensure he got out… and only him. Corpses told no tales.

"Sister?" Carver asked. He'd come up behind me. "Hey, what's going-?"

"You two do what you want," I stated, shutting the doors firmly and sending some fire magic into the lock to melt it shut so that Varric couldn't pick it. "Loot the place, burn it. I don't care. I need some fresh air myself."

* * *

I found Fenris outside, resting against the outer wall of the mansion. His gaze turned to me as I exited and, to my surprise, he glared.

"It never ends," he growled when he saw me exit the house. "I escape magic, only to have it haunt me like a plague."

I bristled, but instead of arguing, I reached over and healed a wound I hadn't noticed before he left. As he stared, I clenched and unclenched my hand. It was still hurting from having to hold back on that lightning spell from earlier. "You're welcome," I told him tartly. "And I'm proud to be a mage. I do apologize, however, for those you have met in the past. I'm sure they are to you as elven criminals are to me." Probably not, as I felt more pity than anger for many of the ones I'd come across in Kirkwall, but the comparison felt apt.

"And what manner of mage are you?" I could see the tension in his shoulders, but he kept his voice civil.

"Do you have a problem with my sister?" Carver suddenly asked, appearing out of nowhere. He stood at my side, proud and even defiant. "I trust not, considering that she just risked her life for your problem."

"Carver, easy," I murmured. I smiled at him, though, to let him know I was incredibly grateful. "Fenris, I'm not certain how to answer your question. I use magic to protect my family, but I only use it when necessary. Magic is a weapon and not the answer to every problem." Even though I absolutely adored it. "All that I do, it's to protect them. No more, no less."

"I have seen many crimes done in the name of protecting another," Fenris muttered. Still, though, he relaxed slightly. "I imagine I appear ungrateful as well. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was… startled."

"Apology accepted." I smiled. "Will you be staying in Kirkwall for a while?"

"Until I receive a new lead for Danarius." He studied my face for a moment. "If… if you need my help, you need only ask."

…_What_? "You want to help a mage?"

"I wish to help someone who helped me." He sounded awkward about it. "I shall be… wary, but I do wish to return the favor."

"I have friends who are mages too," I warned. "You might have to cooperate with them."

"I shall watch them closely, but I'll cooperate."

…Well, who was I to say 'no' to the guy who could, literally, crush my heart? "I'd be honored to have your help, Fenris."

"Ah, good, no one's dead." Varric's simple, cheerful comment broke the tension that remained, and announced his presence. "This calls for a celebration!" He grinned. "Drinks at the Hanged Man! On me."

While Carver agreed immediately, both Fenris and I protested for personal reasons. Somehow or another, though, Varric got us to agree. One day, I'd figure out how he could do that.

* * *

Author's Note – So, here we go, Fenris's recruitment quest. Wonderful first meeting, yes? I also used this opportunity to show Carver's protective instincts and Varric's ability to defuse arguments. I am hoping it's not too… bleh. Or that Fenris is too out of character. It's shown (okay, it's probably more implied) that Fenris doesn't exactly have his head on straight when it comes to Danarius. Showing that off more here in hopes of making character development more apparent.

Hawke being in pain after using her magic isn't something mentioned _much_, due to a couple of reasons. One, she doesn't use magic often. Two, she's so used to the pain that she doesn't think about it (which of course, makes it difficult to mention because the bulk of the story consists of her thoughts and reactions). She doesn't experience pain using healing magic, most of the time, because she doesn't have to have as fine of a control as she does with the rest of her magic. As for why there's pain, it was mentioned (or should've been) that Hawke is very powerful. Lots of power means lots of drawbacks. This is one of them.

Empowering demons with blood magic? No, I don't know if that actually _is_ possible. I do know that rage demons were ridiculously easy to kill in Origins and were _much_ more difficult in DA2, more difficult than the so-called-stronger demons of desire (and not even pride demons were so annoying!) so, I crafted an explanation on the fly and I'm sticking to it. As for the flash? Beginning rogue skill that I'm more or less certain Varric starts out with.

Next Chapter – Fools Rush In. Bela appears!


	8. Chapter 7) Fools Rush In

**Kirkwall – Hanged Man and Chantry – 9:31**

_Fools Rush In_

* * *

"_I am curious about something," the Seeker murmurs._

"_Yes?" the dwarf replies warily. He is growing tired of her questions, mostly because their basis are fabrications too ludicrous for even good story material. _

"_How was it that you convinced Hawke and Fenris to go with you to the Hanged Man? You just… you just skipped over that part."_

"_Oh, that?" He laughs sheepishly. "I was just talking out of my ass there, Seeker. I can't remember what I said. They might've agreed just to get me to shut up for all I know."_

"_Oh." She sounds disappointed. "I see."_

"_Anyway, Seeker, I have some good news for you. For here comes another bosom buddy of Hawke's. And I do mean _bosom_."_

* * *

We got to the Hanged Man and Varric paid quite a bit of money to make sure we got the good stuff. He and Carver quickly started a drinking contest that soon involved nearly half the patrons. I was still confused by how they managed that.

"You aren't drinking anything?" Fenris asked me carefully. Really, _he_ should've been in the contest. He'd already had more than the rest of them put together, and was still sober.

"Alcohol, if you haven't noticed, leads to a loss of control," I pointed out, calmly sipping on my water. For emphasis, I nodded at the drunken antics of the contestants. "Out of control mage is bad."

"When is a mage _in_ control?" I wanted to protest that, but he'd ducked his head like he was expecting a beating, so I let it slide. Just this once. I _was_ proud of my magic, so I'd just show him how a mage _could_ act.

Still, the wounded look on his face was uncomfortable to see. I absently reached over to brush the hair out of his face, like I would with Bethany to calm her down after a bad day. He stiffened before I could touch him, though, and that jarred me out of my thoughts. "Sorry," I mumbled, drawing my hand back. "You… probably don't like being touched."

"That is putting it mildly."

"Sorry. I… wasn't thinking." This was horribly awkward. I was normally better when it came to speaking with people. But knowing that he knew I was a mage, and hated that fact, made me uncomfortable. The fact that he was hurting, though, made me want to help. Yeah, not a good combination. "So, the markings on your skin feel similar to lyrium," I began. I knew it wasn't necessarily a _good_ topic, but it would dispel the silence and that was more important.

"They are." His tone was curt. "Burned into my flesh to provide power that Danarius wanted for his pet. Now, he wishes his investment returned."

"I don't suppose you could find a way to pay him back?"

The attempted joke went _right_ over his head. "I will pay him back. In blood!" His grip on his tankard tightened. "You have no idea what he's done. What I went through to get away!"

"It was _supposed_ to be a joke," I defended. "Also, quiet down. You're attracting a lot of attention as is, with that armor and the glowing. You should stop that."

"The markings glow no matter what I do. It makes me easy to identify." Still, he seemed to fold into himself, trying to make himself less of a target. Again, as if he was expecting a beating. "But, I should not have snapped like that. Of course you do not know. We have only just met."

"Yes, yes." I waved off the apology. I was the one who'd hit a nerve after all. "I was _trying_ to get you to laugh a little. It's a waste of a perfectly handsome elf to be brooding all the time." He finally did laugh then. An embarrassed sort of laugh, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The smile that went with it was equally awkward, like he had no idea how to smile. Maybe he didn't.

"Is that a bit of a smile I see?" Varric asked, appearing out of nowhere. "I think it is, Elf."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted. The smile was gone.

"How are you walking?" I asked Varric, to keep the topic off of Fenris.

"Simple. By putting one foot in front of the other."

"Shouldn't that be difficult with the number of drinks you've had?" At last count, Varric was on twenty. Carver was somewhere between one and fifteen.

"I am a master of sleight of hand."

I smiled slightly in disbelief. "You're just pretending to drink."

"Not a bad trick, isn't it?"

I laughed. "Oh, man, they're going to kill you when they find out."

"Oh, please. Once I start talking, I _win_." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the only one cheating. Junior there is doing a pretty good job pretending to drink, and the others are drunk enough to believe him when he says he's on his tenth when he's still on his first." Now, where did he learn…? If it was at Ostagar, I was going to have a few choice words and him and his behavior!

"_There_ you are!" I heard a breathless voice exclaim shortly before being enveloped in a hug, jarring me out of my thoughts. I glanced up to see it was Bethany. "I've been worried!"

"About?" I asked slowly, trying to switch mental paths. Dealing with Bethany required very different thinking than Carver.

"I heard of a fight in Hightown and just _knew_ you and Carver were somehow caught up in it." She pulled away and frowned. "And you're here, drinking."

"Blame Varric. He's the one who dragged us here."

"Hey, don't turn Sunshine's pout on me!" Varric protested. "That's just cruel!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Sis…!" Bethany whined, tugging my arm. "We can't afford…"

"I'm buying," Varric immediately said. "In fact, why don't you have some yourself?"

"She gets water," I stated, tugging Bethany down to sit beside me. "She hates alcohol."

"And a mage cannot 'lose control'," Fenris grumbled almost mockingly. I almost asked how he knew (guessed, rather), but then realized Bethany had been wandering the streets of Lowtown, in the evening, without a visible weapon. From an outsider's point of view, she was either an idiot or someone who had a way to fight even without a weapon. A mage was practically the one person who'd be able to survive a fight without a weapon. I would _really_ have to have a talk with her about that. She was very likely to get caught this way.

"Yes, quite true." I smiled sweetly, more so to calm Bethany as she had a brief panic attack than to actually be kind. "Fenris, this is my younger sister, Bethany. Bethany, this is Fenris. He's a friend."

"Oh, how do you do?" she greeted politely, with a smile. 'Friend' automatically meant he wasn't going to sell us out. "And yes, I must keep control. I'd rather not have it at all, but, since that is impossible at this point, I must take care not to endanger others."

He looked surprised. "Ah, yes." Haha! Score one for Bethany! Even if I disagreed with the whole 'I wish I was normal' thing.

"So, how has it been around the house?" I asked my little sister, steering the topic away from things that could potential have us all swinging in the Gallows.

"Well, Mother seems to have a bit of her fire back," Bethany answered happily. "And Uncle Gamlen has just been so sour, but he's always sour, so that's all right." She shook her head. "I still can't believe he did that to her."

"Of course you can't believe it, because the thought would've never occurred to you."

"Who'd betray you? You're my awesome big sis!" Bethany liked giving me ego boosts. "Anyway, though, I think… I think Mother is actually going to be fine. When we get the money from the expedition, I think we'll be able to go to the Viscount for the estate. She's been writing him, and getting replies back! Personal ones, not just the standard bland ones!" That _was_ a plus. "I can't wait to live there. Even with all the dead bodies, it was so pretty and big!" She started giggling. "Do you think I'll get to have my own room?" She and I shared back home. "N-not that I don't want to share! But…" But she was getting to be a big girl and she wanted big girl space.

"Considering the size of the place, I think each of us can have ten rooms for ourselves, and still have extra," I teased. "Have you thought of what you'll buy first, once we have the estate settled?"

"Shoes." I laughed at her quick reply. "I'm going to buy some new, good shoes. I _love_ them."

And the ones she was wearing were starting to show their age. "Some shoes, and some silk petticoats?"

"Oh, that sounds lovely. But nothing too extravagant. I've _seen_ some of the things the nobles wear and, by the Maker, I don't see how they could move around in those things!"

"That's the Fereldan talking in you. This area still has some Orlesian influences, if I've been hearing right."

"Maybe. It would explain some things."

"Don't dwarves have beards?" I heard Fenris ask. Startled and confused, I turned to see if I could identify the context of that. Unfortunately, Varric was just staring and Fenris was sipping his drink and frowning. "Then again, maybe it fell down onto your chest."

"Hey, you _can_ joke!" Varric laughed. What had they been talking about?_  
_

"I started eavesdropping at the wrong time," I stated with a smile. "What was the context for that?"

"Well, Hawke…"

His explanation was swallowed up by the sounds of a bar fight. I turned to look and was startled to see one woman _easily_ beating up three armed guys without once going for the knives at her waist. Her dark skin firmly placed her as a Rivaini. Her lack of pants, and her white shirt-dress that showed off her rather large chest, hinted she was a woman of… freer inhibitions.

It ended when one of them tried to grab her, only for her to pull out a knife from her boot and hold it at the guy's throat. "Tell me, Lucky," she purred. "Is this really worth dying for?" She started giggling when the man picked up his friends from the floor and took off. "Ah, I thought not." She returned the knife to her boots, stretched luxuriously, and took a look around. I was instantly wary when her gaze fell onto me and she walked over. Here came trouble.

"Well, you're new around here," the woman said, easily sliding into a seat next to me with a flirtatious smirk. "My, my. Wish I'd seen you earlier." Outside of some suggestive winks at Varric, Fenris, and Bethany, she kept her attention firmly on me. "Keep your wits about you, dear. You're nothing but ass and tits to the men around here and they won't hesitate to grab."

"I served in the Red Irons for a year," I answered calmly. "They've learned their lesson by now."

"With a few broken fingers, I bet." The woman laughed. "But you've been here a year? Strange I've never seen you."

"What makes you think you haven't?"

"Darling, I _always_ remember the good-looking ones. There are way too few." …Good-looking? "Anyway, I'm Isabela. Previously 'Captain' Isabela, but it rings hollow now that my ship is gone. The poor thing." She studied me for a moment. "You're from Fereldan, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You dress the part of a Free Marcher, but the look in your eye is a 'damn the world, I'll make the impossible possible'. I've done a lot of sailing, but Fereldan's the only place I've seen with people like that. Of course, they just destroyed a Blight in a year, so maybe they're right. Was in Denerim shortly before the Siege there. Met an old friend, and the Hero of Fereldan. Sweet little thing, that one."

"Impressive."

"Isn't it? So, what do you say about helping me with a little problem of mine?"

Can't anyone fix their own lives around here?! "What do you need?"

"Someone who isn't a besotted fool that can't hoist the mainsail like those fools I just sent scrambling. Worthless twits."

"Isn't it hard to pull up sails?" Bethany asked. I heard Varric trying to suppress laughter as all of us realized that Bethany hadn't gotten Isabela's implication. "It looked hard, on the ride over from Fereldan."

"Well, aren't you a sweet thing?" She smiled. "Yes, it can be difficult, for _some_ people. Unless you've got some skilled hands on the helm."

"You mentioned a favor?" I asked, dragging the topic back on track. I wasn't going to let a strange pirate woman corrupt Bethany. …Not yet, at least.

"Ah, yes." Her focus returned to me. "Someone from my past has been a real pain in the ass recently. I've arranged for a duel. If I win, he leaves me alone, on the account of him being a little too dead to do much of anything." I couldn't help but chuckle a little. It was the nonchalant way she said it. "Thing is, I know he's not going to play fair. Probably has a bunch of traps set up. So, I want someone to watch my back and make sure he behaves like a good little boy."

"This wouldn't happen to be an ex-lover or something?"

"Him? Nah. Missing the things that make it exciting."

Sex seemed to just drip from her words every time she opened her mouth. "And why ask me? We've never met."

"You saw those men. Couldn't manage simple information gathering. I doubt there are many people here who could do better. Except the pretty little thing here who looks like a hawk at rest." I… what? "You're different. It shows. I don't mind gambling on you."

One of these days, I was going to figure out how I found the weird people. "Strange reason to gamble on a person."

"Perhaps." She stood up. "Meet me at the Chantry in a little bit, okay?"

"When did I agree?" I didn't recall doing so.

"When you didn't disagree." She smiled flirtatiously. "Don't worry. I just need him to behave like a good little boy." She waltzed off, putting an extra sway in her hips as she departed. I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be for someone's benefit or if she just always walked that way. It _could_ have been useful for walking on a ship. Maybe.

"All right," I sighed, standing up. "Let's just get this over with."

"I'm coming too, Sis," Bethany insisted, taking my arm. "And we must get home soon. Mother's been worried all day."

"Yes, of course. Maybe we can find something for her in the nighttime market. Go tell Carver that we'll be leaving for a bit, but that he should stay where he is."

"Okay!" She ran off, the glint in her eyes hinting that she was also going to give him a good scolding.

"Should I come?" Fenris asked, beginning to stand.

I shook my head. "This shouldn't take long," I commented. Hesitantly, I placed a hand on his shoulder to hint that he should sit back down. "Hardly worth abandoning your drink over. Only reason Bethany's coming is because she gets nervous in crowds."

"If you're certain." He was frowning, though. "You shouldn't involve yourself so readily in other people's affairs."

"Says the man who asked for help."

"Says the elf who'd been prepared to bribe and plead, only for you to agree without even an bit of hesitation." He studied me for a moment. "I've never met anyone like you, before."

"Someone willing to help?"

"A mage who wants nothing."

"Oh, I want a lot of things, Fenris." I made sure to smile. "But I know that I can only focus on one 'want' and that's keeping my family safe."

"You _can_ want for more."

"But if I do, something might happen to them and I couldn't bear that." Noticing Bethany heading towards the entrance, I waved goodbye over my shoulder. "Be back in a bit. Enjoy your drink."

* * *

As Bethany and I entered Hightown, we ran into Anders. Well, in Bethany's case, that was literal.

"Easy there," he laughed as Bethany spouted off apologies. "No harm done."

"What brings you up in the fresh air?" I asked with a smile.

"Well, the fresh air for one. Another was hunting for some potion ingredients."

"You could just ask. I'd be glad to help."

"Same here!" Bethany added. "Sis and I used to make them all the time back home."

"I'll remember that," he promised. "As for why I'm still up here, that's a little more interesting."

"What happened?"

"Well, I passed a pirate that looked familiar, and now I find you two following her path. Trouble?"

"Watching a duel," I answered. "You're more than welcome to come along."

"Trouble." He sighed. "Well, let's go. Won't be the worst thing I've done."

"And now we've a good healer in case things go wrong." Thank the Maker.

"You're a good healer, but I'll take the praise. I'm shameless like that." He pointed down a path. "She was heading towards the Chantry, but I thought I heard some fighting not long ago."

"Oh, joy. Let's go." I took off, fully expecting the other two mages to follow. The footsteps behind me said that I was right. Yay.

The fight that Anders had heard had been happening in the grand plaza where all the highest ranked nobles had their houses (the Amell estate was here too). To no one's surprise, Isabela was in the middle of it. I hadn't really expected her not needing my help, but that was a pleasant surprise.

"What took you?" she asked pleasantly as she kicked the last one off her knives. "I got ambushed."

"I can see that," I replied with a smile. "And I left not long after you did, so it's not entirely my fault."

"I suppose. We should work a little more on your timing. Swoop in and save the day."

"Isn't swooping bad?" The phrase showed up in a lot of children's tales, so it was a popular joke to point it out how bad it was when someone mentioned 'swooping'.

"Not the point." She peeked behind me. "Oh, the sweet thing came with you. And who's the handsome one that looks familiar?"

"Bethany is my little sister, and off limits. Anders is a good friend, and more than capable of taking care of himself." I heard Anders laughing and turned to see Bethany adorably flustered. "Bethany?"

"Um… wait, so she _was_ flirting with you back at the Hanged Man?" she squeaked. "I wasn't sure."

"Oh, she's so cute!" Isabela cooed. "I want to eat her up. Maybe show her why a woman's good for six things."

"Yeah, no," I retorted. "Now, what happened here?"

"Exactly what I thought. He's not playing fair. To the Chantry to confront the cad!"

I should've brought Varric. He and Isabela would get along quite well.

* * *

"Please tell me we're not heading to the second level," Anders begged as we entered the Chantry.

"If we are, you can stay below," I reassured. "But I doubt it."

"Good. I can still see the blood and… hey, they actually fixed the wall?"

Ow, my neck from the metaphorical whiplash. "And it was a pain in the back to do."

"…Sorry?"

"Isabela," someone suddenly called. A heavily armed man with a slight Antivan accent, if I guessed correctly, strolled up with an annoyed scowl on his face. Bethany stepped closer to me as a result. "Should've known those idiots couldn't kill you."

"Were you really expecting them, Hayder?" Isabela asked, with a small laugh that was somewhere between good humor and mocking.

"Castillon was heartbroken when he heard about the shipwreck. You should've let him know you managed to survive the tragedy."

"Oh, dear, it must've slipped my mind as I tried to staunch the bleeding."

Hayder gave a polite chuckle before shifting into a more serious face. "Where's the relic?"

"I lost it." There was a slight pause before she continued. "Casillon's just going to have to do without." And I was getting the feeling there was a lot more to the story than I'd heard. What a surprise.

"What do you think is going on here?" I asked Anders quietly as Hayder stared at Isabela, trying to determine if she was being serious or not.

"Best guess?" he replied. "She bungled a job for someone important."

"Trouble?"

"Trouble."

"Joy."

"Lost it?" Hayder finally repeated. "Is this like how you 'lost' a ship full of valuable cargo?"

"They were people!" Isabela snapped. "Not cargo! I told Castillon I didn't deal with slaving. Not after…"

"They were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and you let them scurry off!" Aveline would _love_ to hear about this, I bet. Slaving was illegal in most countries not called the Tevinter Imperium. "And now the relic's gone too? Castillon won't be happy to hear about that."

"From what I hear, your Castillon probably isn't a happy man to begin with," I couldn't help but snark. "Besides, he doesn't _have_ to hear, does he?"

"Now who's this?" He leered at me. "Huh. Might make some good coin off her."

"Yeah, good luck with that. What exactly is going on?"

"Isabela's been a bad girl. Ruined a perfectly good business deal and then ran away. She didn't tell you?"

"I told her enough," Isabela protested.

"And I'm not sure this 'business deal' is what I'd call 'perfectly good'," I added. I gave Isabela a stern look that promised questions later, before focusing on Hayder again. "So, how do we arrange for Castillon to not hear about all this? Oh, I know. We can go ahead with that duel you arrange."

"Or you'll do what?" Hayder sneered.

I sighed, whispered a prayer, held out a hand, and loosed a lightning bolt to shatter one of the windows. "You now have until someone in the Chantry gets up to investigate."

"You're a mage!"

"And you're a slaver. Also, I'm damn sure I can get more proof of that fact than you can about me being a mage."

"So, does this mean I get to have fun now?" Isabela asked. She looked up at the broken window with the same attention one would look at a potential weapon.

"Yeah, have fun."

"Awesome. I get their stuff after this, right?"

As Isabela went to town, I tugged Anders and Bethany into a side room. "I can't believe I did that," I sighed. "I'm still paying penance for the _last _time I was involved with a fight in the Chantry." I'd be in tomorrow to help fix that window. Also, needed to determine if Isabela was going to be a friend or not after this. If she wasn't, then I'd have to take my chances in killing her. I didn't have the money to bribe, and I couldn't take the chance. Ugh, I hated thinking like this…

"Hayder, you hit like my grandmother!" Isabela's laughing taunt rang out through the hall. I couldn't resist peeking out to watch. She was bouncing a bit on her toes; obviously, she relied of dodging to defend herself. She was also having quite a bit of fun.

"Damn bitch!" Hayder growled. I noticed he wasn't nearly as confident as he'd been earlier. He also wasn't thinking as clearly, based on the giant holes in his guard. "I'm gonna gut you!"

"No, you're too slow." And suddenly it looked like Isabela was everywhere at once. Each time I blinked, she seemed to be in a different place, knifing through a different hole in Hayder's guard. By the time she'd stopped moving, I'd counted eight stab wounds, all to vital veins and organs.

"That'll be a mess to clean up," I noted as I stepped out of the room.

"Can you imagine how sore you'd be?" she laughed. "Ah, I feel good. And they say violence never solves anything."

"Mind explaining things a little more?"

"I suppose." She sighed. "I really didn't think it mattered."

"Sounds like the Wardens," Anders commented. He was glancing around cautiously. "Everything on a need to know basis, not a when you actually want to know basis."

"We are going to get in so much trouble if we're caught," Bethany whispered, clinging to my arm.

"Then let's get out of here," I said. I nodded to Isabela. "You can explain outside, yes?"

"Yeah, I don't fancy meeting the templars ever," Isabela agreed. If that were true, it would be good for me. "Where to?"

"I've an idea of a place where we won't be disturbed."

* * *

"Wait, how is this place open?" Bethany asked as we stepped inside the Amell Estate. It was huge, horribly empty, and horribly cold. I hated the cold.

"Open for investigation," I answered, glancing around. "I don't suppose we could risk a fire?"

"You'll have the guard investigating why there's smoke coming out of the chimney," Anders pointed out. I sighed. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine." I turned to face the silent pirate. We had to talk quickly, because a guard on patrol would pass by at any moment. "Okay, captain. Let's hear some explanations, please?"

"Well, where should I start?" she asked, looking around.

"How about the beginning?" Anders suggested. "Seems to be the obvious place."

"I guess so." She sighed. "Okay, let's see… well, actually, I'm not too sure _what_ the beginning was."

"There was a mention of human cargo?" Bethany whispered.

"As good place to start as any." She leaned against the wall. "I was asked to escort a cargo ship for Castillon, a powerful Antivan merchant with ties to the Armada. I got a bad feeling about the job partway through, so I boarded the ship. Below the deck, there were slaves. Two hundred or thereabouts. Elves, humans… children even. It was sickening. I found out from them that they were refugees from the Blight. They'd paid Castillon for safe passage. He pocketed their gold and sold them into slavery for extra profit." She was trying to sound nonchalant, but she held herself stiffly. "I've known for years he's done slaving. I've… helped once or twice, though I typically just helped him smuggle jewels and lyrium. Hated it, and after a particular incident, I refused to do anymore."

"Incident?" I asked.

"…We had a bad encounter with some… Orlesians, I think they were. The would be slaves… they didn't make it." Guilty was heavy in her eyes. "I didn't want anymore part in it. I warned him about that. It was his own damn fault he didn't believe me when I said I'd free them. And I did."

"How kind."

"Well, kinder than Castillon. I suppose that's something." She shrugged. "I was supposed to get this relic, some valuable thing, to make up for it. To be honest, though, he just wants me dead, but doesn't want to let me off easily."

"Sounds like a headache," Anders commented.

"Yes, but I value my life, and Castillon has access to Crows."

"So, it sounds like finding the relic is your best bet," I noted. Antivan Crows were not ones to mess with. "Though finding something like that in Kirkwall is worse than finding a needle in a haystack."

"Don't I know it," she sighed heavily. "But, anyway, thanks. If you hadn't done that, I'm sure Hayder would've led me into a trap or something."

"No problem."

"Um… Sis, there might be _one_ problem?" Bethany nervously pointed out.

"No problem in my helping," I instantly corrected. "Might be a slight problem with how I did so."

"You mean the magic thing?" Isabela asked. I nodded and she laughed warmly. "Honey, I'm more likely to get shanked in a bar than eaten by an abomination. Who cares what those stuffy templars say anyway? People overblow things they think are threats to keep people from finding out the truth." Oh, so this meant I didn't have to kill her? That _would_ be nice. Best keep a close eye to be sure, of course. "Besides, that lightning thing was pretty cool. I _love_ electricity. There was this mage at the Pearl one time who-"

"I knew I recognized you," Anders suddenly said. He looked both amused and exasperated. "You're that pirate that really liked the girl with the griffon tattoo. What was her name…?"

"The _Lay_ Warden?" Isabela giggled. "Oh, that was you! That electricity thing really was nice!"

"I do not need to hear this," I sighed. "I really don't."

"Why?" Bethany asked curiously. "What's the Pearl, Sis?" Uh oh.

"Well, sweetie," Isabela began with a wide grin. "It's a-"

I clapped my hands over Bethany's ears. "She's not listening," I stated. "Not at all."

"Sis!" Bethany complained. "I can't hear anything." That was the point.

"Oh, fine, be a spoilsport," Isabela sighed. "Anyway, so that electricity thing was-"

"Let's not get into that," Anders interrupted hastily. "Please."

"But it was good!"

"I can easily show you why people avoid lightning, if you get onto that topic again."

"I'm pretty sure I can do that to both of you!" I informed them sternly. "Now, if you don't mind, let's get out of here before a guard comes through!"

"Yes, yes," Isabela agreed with a sigh. "Let's go back to the Hanged Man, where we can get some celebratory drinks." She purposely made sure her walk out brushed past me. "Say, if you need a blade, let me know. I wouldn't mind returning the favor for you. And I have a room, if you ever need company." She walked out, dragging Anders with her as the two talked amicably about Fereldan.

"It looks like you have a new ally, Sis," Bethany told me warmly as I processed that Isabela did just basically proposition me within a few hours after meeting me. Who _did_ that?!

"Really?" I sighed. "And here I thought I'd just gotten a headache." Then again, considering my life, Isabela's antics might actually end up more amusing than anything.

* * *

Author's note: And here is Isabela. It'll be a bit before we get our last companion (Merrill) simply because Hawke keeps getting caught up in things that make her unable to leave Kirkwall for Sundermont!

I won't lie. Isabela is one of my _favorite_ companions. I just find her hilarious and entertaining (even if she is responsible for the majority of the conflict at the end of Act 2). I cut out the ambush part of the quest because it didn't really add much of anything, I felt.

Many bits of dialogue here are derived from Party Banter. In particular, the thing where Fenris muses that Varric lost his beard to his chest and where Isabela and Anders discuss once meeting in the brothel in Denerim. I believe Isabela's line about being more likely to get killed in a bar comes from Party Banter as well.

For those wondering about the 'incident' mentioned by Isabela up there, read "Those Who Speak".  
Next Chapter – Shepherding Wolves. Technically, it's split into two parts, but mostly because the 'turn in' part will be in a separate chapter than the main quest.


	9. Chapter 8) Shepherding Wolves

**Kirkwall – Lowtown and Undercity**

_Shepherding Wolves_

* * *

"_Say, Seeker," the dwarf begins, taking a sudden break in his storytelling. "Do you know what 'foreshadowing' is?"_

"_I… yes?" the Seeker answers, startled. "It's something stories will use. It hints of things to come."_

"_Life sometimes uses it too. That's why it's so popular." He sighs. "This next part is a good example. It was just a stupid rumor that Hawke got caught up in. But, it was the first sign that things with the Qunari weren't going to end easily."_

* * *

In Lowtown, on the way to the Hanged Man, we came across an unusual sight. A Chantry Sister, looking very nervous, wandering off with a thug who claimed to be able to do a job for her. That just spelled trouble.

"Can you get that deep into Lowtown and be that stupid?" Isabela asked with a sigh. "Uh oh. Guard's coming. Gotta book." She kissed me cheek. "Come see me at the Hanged Man in a bit!"

She dashed off, right as Aveline came from around the corner. "Ah, Hawke," she greeted. "I don't suppose you know anything about the Sister that just walked off? A guard reported it and I've come to investigate."

"Something tells me that I'm about to find out," I sighed. "Give me a moment." Leaving the others behind, I walked into the alley where I had seen the thugs and Sister go. I wasn't surprised at all to see them threatening her. Something about giving all the money or letting them see what was under the robes. Typical behavior, unfortunately.

"There's another one!" one of them yelled. "Let's… get… her… wait, isn't that…?"

I frowned as I recognized a few of the men. "Hey, don't I know you all?" I asked slowly. "I think I broke your hand last week because you thought to cop a feel?"

"Flames, it _is_ Hawke," another one hissed. "Run before she kills us." I frowned at that, even as they ran. I didn't have _that_ bad of a reputation, right?

I let them scramble away in favor of helping the Sister up. "My thanks," she mumbled once she was standing, brushing the dirt off her robes. "I am… I am quite out of my element."

Surely, she didn't _just_ think of that? "This area can be pretty dangerous at night," I commented neutrally. "Walking around without a visible weapon is just asking for trouble."

"Yes, I realize that. But I had to come here, to search for someone of great skill and greater morals. Perhaps someone who would come to another's aid? I have a job. If you are willing, meet me at my safehouse nearby."

…No. Something was wrong. "I just saved you in an alley, and suddenly we're in business," I stated bluntly. "Why should I help you?"

"You're in _Lowtown_," she scoffed. "What grand scheme could I be interrupting?"

"Robbing the Chantry blind?"

"If that is your answer…" The woman glanced to the side. "Varnell."

A templar stepped out from the shadows. "I see you're not nearly as helpless," I murmured. "But you still haven't given me a reason for helping." I nodded at Aveline in the back. "That's the Guard-Captain, by the way. I'm sure she'd be so happy to see a Chantry sister and templar… disobeying their vows. Same with the Grand Cleric."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I know that you're doing a piss poor job asking me for a favor," I retorted. "You haven't even offered _coin_. I am not so desperate." Okay, that wasn't the least bit true, but I could bluff with this lady.

"Perhaps the ruse would've been more convincing without Varnell, but there have been tales of apostates here and I dared not chance it." …No, surely those rumors weren't of Bethany and me. We'd been careful. Mostly. "What are your feelings on the mages?"

"How about you give me a reason not to leave you right here?" I asked instead. "You can't kill me in view of Aveline and you offer me nothing."

"Will you not answer my question?"

"You don't survive here in Lowtown without knowing what questions aren't worth answering. Maybe you shouldn't leave the Chantry if you can't figured even that out."

"What do you want?" she finally growled. I got the feeling Aveline's presence was the only thing preventing her attack bitch of a templar from trying to kill me.

"You can't expect someone to just drop everything because you say so. Give me information. Obviously, you're looking for someone to hire. If you tell me a bit more about the job, I'll consider it. If you're looking for those with nothing to lose, you'd better keep going down to Darktown and hope you don't run into the Cotorie."

She muttered something under her breath, but sighed. "I… need help smuggling someone outside of the city," she finally said.

"What? A templar who went rogue?"

"What would you do if I said it was a mage?"

"Ask if you'd been drinking at the Hanged Man," I replied, startled. "You have a templar right there."

"Yes, but we cannot keep him in the Circle and I… do not believe in killing him."

What in the Void…? "And this is a _paying_ job? I'm not doing charity." Not for this lady, at least.

"Yes. I intend to pay well."

…Well, let's see. "I'm intrigued," I commented. "Allow me to grab a small group to help me and I'll meet you at your safehouse for further discussion."

"My thanks." She fished out a piece of paper with an address scribbled out on it. I was amused to see it was basically across the street from Gamlen's house. "I will be there. Please, come soon."

She and her templar pet walked away, disappearing into the streets of Lowtown. Someone tapped my shoulder as they departed. I turned to see it was Aveline. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I've been hired to do a job," I answered. "Though I don't know all the details."

"This sounds like trouble. Should I come with you?"

"Please? I do like _trying_ to stay on the right side of the law."

She sighed, but smiled. "We'll see what's going on."

"That's all I promised."

"Good."

"Nice to see you again too," I found myself muttering as I entered the safehouse a few minutes later. It was only right to be polite to the templar sword in my face. And, I suppose, the dog wielding it.

"Varnell, please," the Sister commanded. She plastered a fake smile to try and greet me. "I thank you for coming."

"You're welcome." I had to force myself to be polite. I was _not_ liking this woman. "Now, then. Information?"

"This matter is… delicate." She began pacing about nervously. "As I said, an escort, but the nature of the party makes this… unique."

"I've gathered that," I sighed. "Look, bring out the person. And what's your name anyway?"

"I am Sister Petrice." She opened a back door and gestured someone to come out. "And this is my charge." I knew, just by the height and horns, that her charge was a Qunari. But I'd never seen a Qunari dressed like this. His face was what held my attention. His eyes were masked by a bloodstained blindfold and his lips were stitched together with rough string. Maker! "He is a mage, but you can see why he cannot go to the Circle. But I cannot leave him to his brutal brethren. Look at him!"

"Does he have a name?"

"I call him 'Ketojan', a bridge between worlds." She placed a hand on his shoulder and turned to me. "I want him free."

"I… think I can get him out," I murmured. I glanced at Aveline, who nodded. "But we'll have to hit the Undercity. He's too big to hide."

"Wait, we're not helping this _thing_ are we?" Bethany yelped. Both Aveline and Anders were startled by her vehemence. "No, the Qunari are monsters!"

"Bethany, calm down."

"How can you even think about it?! You saw… you were there… you were one of the ones who discovered that Sten creature after he ripped my friends apart!" I closed my eyes as I remembered that brutal scene. No one had heard anything from Lars's farm since before Ostagar, so a group had been sent to see whether something had happened. I'd gone along, as I was the only 'healer' around. We'd found them all dead, brutally slaughtered by a giant. A Qunari who identified himself only as 'Sten'. He'd been sentence to death by darkspawn, something that most people agreed with, but I thought far surpassing the crime. The last that I'd heard of him, he'd been freed by the Wardens to help against the Blight.

Lars's daughter had been Bethany's best friend. She hadn't even been allowed to look at the body before the burning, because it was so damaged. "If I blame this Qunari for that, I'll be no better than the people who blame mages because of a blood mage who went wild," I whispered to her. "I want to be better than them." Bethany didn't reply, just set her jaw stubbornly. "I thought you did too."

"Hey, Sister, do you need help?" And suddenly Carver was poking his head inside. "I saw you enter here," he explained before I could ask. "What's wrong?"

"Bethany needs to head home," I answered, looking right at her so that she could see my disappointment. "You mind helping me with a job in her place? Or did you have too many drinks?"

"I barely had half of one, no matter what I was saying. Yeah, I'll help." He glanced around and saw the Qunari. He understood then what was going on. "Looks like it'll take the rest of the night."

"Probably. Bethany?"

"Fine," she grumbled, looking away. "I'll take care of Mother."

"My thanks, Bethany." I smiled at her to soften the earlier scolding. "Sorry to stick you with our uncle for the night. I'll make it up to you later."

"You better."

As Bethany slipped out, Petrice pointed me to a trap door. "That will lead you to the Undercity," she explained. "You should be able to get him out through there."

"Yeah," I agreed reluctantly. I had a bad feeling about all this. "Okay, let's get going."

"I hadn't thought of the plight of mages within the Qunari," Anders murmured as we all entered the room and opened the door. "That Sten Bethany mentioned taught Commander and Serenity, okay mostly just Serenity, a lot about the Qunari, more than he probably expected he would, but I didn't even think Qunari _had_ mages. They must be even more oppressed than we are."

I glanced up at Ketojan, only to see him shake his head. But why? Did he really understand what we were saying and protesting? Was it simple coincidence? Or was he trying to warn…?

"I wish you could speak so that I could have better answers," I whispered. Then, despite my misgivings, I led the way down into the Undercity.

* * *

Everything went surprisingly well. There were no obstacles blocking our path. No hidden traps. No rapid animals attacking us. Ketojan followed quite faithfully, without any rebelliousness. Nothing fell on us. We kept a somewhat decent pace. Yes, everything was going surprisingly well. So, it came as no surprise to me when we ran straight into a gang within sight of the exit.

"Well, look here. No shortage of fools," the leader sighed as he shook his head. "Come to challenge the Undercity?"

"You could say that," I replied neutrally. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the other three preparing weapons. I hoped they'd wait for them to attack first. I'd feel a lot better about it.

"And what's this?" He studied Ketojan. "It's collared like a dog lord bitch."

"My charge, for now."

"A fool and a Qunari lover." I didn't say that, but I was beginning to feel foolish for taking the damn job. "Maybe I should get rid of you and see how much I can get for your pet." Ketojan's reaction was, surprisingly, to growl and step closer to me.

"Uh… I don't think think it likes you threatening its master," one of the others said shakily. "M-maybe we should let them pass."

"A voice of reason?' I asked, incredulous. Really, I would've thought they'd run away due to the fact that there was a _Guard_ with me. "What's he doing with your lot?"

"Your kind think you're so damned right, taking over everything while forcing Free Marchers like me back into our own _sewers_!" the leader snapped.

"First off, my mother is a Free Marcher. Second off, if you think you're going to insult me by trying to say that, as a Fereldan, I'm not the same as you, that's just fine. I'd be horrified if I were the same 'kind' as you."

"That's it. I'm gonna cut you up and save the biggest piece for your-"

Ketojan suddenly gestured, killing the man in a quick burst of fire hot enough to burn even the ashes. A knife clattered to the ground as I stared. What had just happened? Did Ketojan… did he just protect me?

But he'd gone too far, lost control. Fire was now devouring the area. Anders and Carver crept close to me. Anders was healing Carver's arm from a nasty burn. And Aveline was… she was…

…I couldn't find Aveline in the flames. _I couldn't find Aveline_.

"Aveline!" I called. There was no answer. "Aveline!" The thugs who were attacking us tried to scream as they burned, but the heat stole their voices before the fire consumed them. "_Aveline_!" Nothing.

Thinking quickly, frantically, I pleaded for all the moisture still in the air, what little there was, to condense and freeze. Then, I amplified it as much as possible to unleash a Blizzard to combat the fire. I'd worried about using too much, since I only felt a brief bit of pain as I unleashed the spell, but Ketojan's flames were quite powerful. There was only a thin layer of ice once the blizzard ran its course.

"You're quite powerful, Hawke," Anders commented as the sudden chill gripped us. "I tried casting ice spells myself, but I couldn't get enough to get all the flames like that."

I ignored him in favor of hunting for my missing friend. "Aveline?" I called. "Aveline, where are-?"

"I'm over here, Hawke," I heard her rasp. I whirled and found her wedged into a corner. There were some light burns on her face and neck, and her hair was singed, but otherwise she looked well. She'd picked a good place to hide. "Does anyone have water?"

"I'll generate some ice for you," Anders said as he walked over to her. He gave me a wounded look, but I shrugged and pointed at Aveline. He seemed to understand. "You can suck on it as I check your burns."

"Carver, can you check ahead to make sure we don't get ambushed?" I requested him. He looked a little startled. "I… I think I need to talk with Ketojan."

"He's behind the corner there," Carver told me. "…I've never seen magic like that."

"That's what happens when a mage isn't trained. That's why Father was so insistent of Bethany and I learning discipline and why I harp so much when Bethany's control slips."

The look he had on his face wasn't one I wanted to ask about, so I left the three to tend to their wounds and went to the out of control mage who'd caused all this trouble.

He acknowledged me with a low growl, but he didn't look. At least, I didn't think he did. "Ketojan," I began. "I need you to listen to me." I wasn't sure if he was paying attention, but he did bring his head down, so I thought he was. "I am on your side. My friends are trying to help you, same as I am. What you just did could've gotten all of us killed. Do you understand this?" He made a noise that I hoped was agreement. "Just rust me. I'll do… I'll do the right thing." He growled again, and I hoped it was him cooperating. "All right, then. Let's head outside."

* * *

"Where are we?" I asked as I looked over the pass. There was a hint of light in the distance. Dawn was approaching.

"Vimmark Mountain Pass," Aveline answered. "We're not far from the Wounded Coast."

"Now _there's_ a good name. Is it next to Murder Cliffs? Head Trauma Fields?"

"No idea. But where we are right now is next to some Qunari," Carver groaned, gesturing at the guard below. Great. Just… great.

Knowing it was inevitable, I walked down the path to where they were. If we were lucky, we could just walk on past, but I had a feeling this wouldn't end cleanly.

"Hold, basra vashedan," one called, proving my suspicions. Judging by how the rest deferred to him, I guessed he was the leader. I wished someone had given nametags or something to all the thug leaders so that I could refer to them by name and not by 'Leader' or 'Thug' or 'Qunari'. So inconsiderate. "I claim possession of Saarebas at your heel. The members of a karataam were killed by Tal-Vashoth, but their disposal leads here, to Saarebas and you."

I had _no_ idea what he was talking about. "I knew this was going to end in more Qunari," I muttered.

"You speak as if ignorance is your natural inclination." Terrific, he was annoyed.

"Look, I just got here, coming from the other way. If there's a trail, there's no way I left it."

"Yet you are here with Saarebas. The crime is in his freedom, his leash held by an unknown basra." Oh, I had a feeling I knew what was coming. "That danger shall not be allowed to continue. Let your own mages doom you. Saarebas will be properly confined."

My temper was about to slip. "And if he doesn't want to go back?" Why was it that I was the one who had to deal with them anyway? I'd love to be one of the ones just sitting back and waiting for something to happen., like Carver, Anders, and Aveline. I really would.

"He has only followed you because he wants to be led! He is allowed no other purpose!" I had never heard a Qunari yell before, but it was certainly an experience. "He will be returned to the Qun and cleansed!"

I grit my teeth and glared at the implication. "I will not turn over to you, who thinks and speaks of him as if he is nothing more than an object. If he chooses to go with you, then he should _speak_ it."

"Your kind has no sense." The Qunari produced a rod that pulsed with power. I nearly buckled as it emitted something; Ketojan collapsed to his hands and knees. "And you shall die for it."

"It'll take more than a handful of Qunari to take us down." Lightning crackled in my hand as I drew my sword. "Far more."

I shot the lightning right at them. Chain Lightning was incredibly useful for dealing with clustered enemies, like the Qunari here. I was angry enough to let my control slip and killed a few of them right then and there. Thankfully, the others were behind me, so that they wouldn't get caught. When I forgot to hold back, the lightning could bounce around for a good minute, far too long for people wearing metal armor.

Since my control wasn't at its usual, I had to switch to just swords in order to make sure I didn't accidentally hurt my friends. Anders didn't have that qualm, able to expertly aim ice and fire spells in between the rest of us to hit only the Qunari trying to kill us. Then again, if he was a Warden, he probably had a lot more practice than the rest of us.

"A dangerous thing, you are," the leader one hissed as he swung his sword at me. I managed to block it, but my arms _screamed_ in pain. Damn it. I'd have to train more. "You have been corrupted by the Saarebas. As Arvaarad, it is my job to dispose of you."

"You talk like I know what you're saying, which I don't," I retorted, dodging a second strike. My arms would break if I blocked like I did before. Just had to wait for an opening. "But you're messing with my own job."

"And that is?"

"Protecting my family. That's my role in this messed up world." He stumbled, just once, as if startled by my words. I took that opportunity to slide my sword through the slits on his mask to kill him. As he fell, I wondered what had caused him to lower his guard.

Shaking my head of thoughts I had no answer to, I looked around to check for more enemies. As there were known, I focused on the others. Anders worked on healing a grumpy Carver's arm. Aveline searched the bodies for any hints as to what was going on. I walked to Ketojan and tried to help him up. He managed to nod at the rod on the ground, as if indicating that was I needed to break to help him. So, I picked it up and channeled raw magic into the device to crack it. Another wave of power was released, but it was far weaker than before.

"I am… unbound." I turned at the gravely, stilted voice and saw it was Ketojan as he slowly stood up. "Odd, wrong, but you deserve honor." He looked towards me and bowed. "You are baasvaarad, worthy of following. Though it was a short while, it was an honor. The world shall be changed forever because of you." What was he talking about? "I thank your intent, though it was wrong. I must return as demanded. It is the wisdom of the Qun."

As he turned to walk to the nearby cliff, I asked, "You want to die?"

"No, I do not want to die." He stopped at the very edge of the cliff. I came up beside him, gazing out over the beautiful view of water and cliffs. The rising sun painted it with soft pinks and blues. "I want to live, by the Qun."

"But that means dying."

"Yes." He turned to face me. "Is that hard to grasp?"

I wanted to protest, but I remembered my own words earlier. "My job technically ended as soon as we exited the city. I don't have a right to interfere." Especially since I said I'd return him to the Qun, so long as he'd _said_ that he wanted that.

"Yes, you understand. You are closer to the Qunari than you suspect." I stared in confusion. "Your role would change little, should you accept the Qun. Even with your… magic." He tugged something from his neck and passed it to me. It was a small amulet of a beautiful dark crimson stone. It pulsed with power. "Take this and remember this day." He stepped back a few paces, turned away to face the view, and set himself aflame. Ignoring all my instincts, swallowing all my protests, I just stood there and watched him burn.

The others babbled, confused as to what was going on. Anders thought he was an idiot. Carver had no idea what to think. Aveline was more focused on the Sister who had framed us.

I, however, stayed silent, watching the body crumble into dust. Staring at the ashes that were slowly being picked up and scattered by the wind. My grip tightened on Ketojan's pendant as the ashes brushed against my skin before disappearing.

'Remember this day'. I doubted I would forget.

* * *

Author's Note – the actual end of this quest, the turning in part, will be in a different chapter, due to convenient timing.

Ah, the quest that doesn't make sense as a main quest until you realize that it's foreshadowing the conflict of Act 2. Yeah, I don't like Petrice. I haven't met anyone who does. I do like Ketojan, though, and wished he'd stuck around a little longer.

Bethany's reaction is more drawn from little bits of banter you here. For those who don't remember, Sten (companion from Origins) was locked up because he'd slaughtered an entire family in/near Lothering. Little bits of banter from Bethany hint that she was good friends with the children there and, as a result, has a hatred towards the Qunari. Yes, I know, she's supposed to get approval for helping him out, but I think this makes a lot more sense.

Why did Ketojan lose control? I doubt there's been much training for him and it did something different to an otherwise boring section. Also, for giving an idea of how strong Hawke can be, while showing off some differences between her and Anders. Anders functions primarily as a healer, and doesn't have as much strength in offensive spells (which can't really be shown in game except by sheer variety). Hawke, despite her liking for healing, is primarily an offensive mage. I'll show the flip side of this better when I actually get around writing Hawke helping at Anders's infirmary.  
Technically speaking, Anders has a speaking part here at the end (where he expresses his belief that Ketojan is an idiot for going through with this), but I felt that adding it would break the flow I had. So, it's just regulated to background.

Why does Arvaarad lose his concentration? Pay attention to what Hawke said. There's a reason why Hawke is capable of becoming honored by the Qunari, after all.

Long author's note is long (does anyone even read these?). Next Chapter – Blackpowder Promise.


	10. Chapter 9) Blackpowder Promise

**Kirkwall – 9:31**

_Blackpowder Promise_

* * *

"_Did that… _woman_ set them up?" the Seeker spits. Fury is evident in her face and posture._

"_Now, now," the dwarf mockingly dismisses. "Wait your turn. I need to tell this in order."_

"_Well, surely Hawke went straight back to confront that piece of-!"_

"_As happy as I am about you being upset, no. Hawke ended up taking a little bit of a detour."_

* * *

On the way home, while still trying to wrap our heads around what just happened _and_ dealing with absolutely no sleep, our merry little group came across an ambush and spiders bigger than my head. Much bigger.

"Better get used to that," Anders commented as he froze the last one solid. "Spiders even bigger than these live in the Deep Roads."

"Oh, joy," I groaned. I _hated_ spiders. "Just what I needed to hear."

"Not as bad as broodmothers. Trust me."

"What's that?" Carver asked. "Never heard about them at Ostagar." He glanced at Aveline, who shook her head.

"I am _not_ describing the absolutely fascinating thing that is a broodmother." Anders's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Also, we have company. Might be not trying to kill us, for once."

"That _would_ be a wonderful change of pace," Aveline noted. She glanced at the well-dressed dwarf that was heading out way, though, and sighed. "Then again, I'm not sure I don't _want_ to hurt this one."

"What's wrong?" Carver asked.

"The one dwarf merchant who might be worse than Bartrand."

"…I think that's my cue to leave."

"Too late. Well, for Hawke. You and Anders could probably slip away." Why was it too late for me? Simple. The dwarf had focused all his attention on me. Great.

"Well, well…" the dwarf began gleefully. "You're just what a man needs."

"You have two seconds to make sense," I told him bluntly. My nerves were still raw from watching something burn himself to death. "Also, what are you doing out here alone?"

"I wasn't alone." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to point out the wounded mess of… er… no, they were all dead, those mercenaries. "You took care of the things that killed my guards."

"I'm sure they're quite happy over that."

"Bah, can't find a decent blade at a bargain anymore. Waste of money." I instantly disliked this dwarf. "The name is Javaris. I'm in need of good blades, preferably at a low price."

"For what?"

"Courting the Qunari, of course."

"Maker, think of the children!"

Javaris lacked a sense of humor, judging by his glare. "Those ox-horns have a powder that explodes, and it's just dust. No lyrium. No demons. Magic that can be assembled so that anyone can use it," he explained with a greedy light in his eyes. "Anyway, I'm willing to pay some good coin for you to wipe out some Tal-Vashoth. Figured that if I got rid of them, they'd be more open for bargaining."

Did I really want to do this? Yes, I needed the money, but did I really want to deal with more Qunari? Especially for someone like this?

"Hawke, I think we should," Aveline murmured. Wait, what? "These Tal-Vashoth have caused quite some trouble for my guards." Oh, I could understand this. Well, I'd _gladly_ help out Aveline.

"All right, dwarf," I sighed. "I'll do it. But you'd better have coin ready."

* * *

Whoever named this place the Wounded Coast must've been a prophet. The place was set up nicely for ambushes and tight battles that could result in plummeting to your doom if you stepped wrong. Oh, and of course, we couldn't forget the bandits here. Even if they weren't the normal type.

"You know, Sister, that if the Qunari ever try to attack, you're going to be their primary target," Carver commented as we killed the last of the lookouts in front of a cave. "You're getting too much practice in killing them."

"Gee, thanks," I replied sarcastically, fishing a spare cloth out of my pocket to wipe off my blade. "I'm sure they'll take that into consideration."

"Some retreated into a nearby cave," Aveline called over. "If we follow, I believe we might find the leader."

"Time to cut off the snake's head," I mumbled. "All right, let's head in."

As we did so, I noticed Anders seemed quite quiet. I glanced over and saw him remarkably pale and obviously unnerved.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, letting Carver and Aveline move on ahead.

"I'm fine," he replied automatically, with a strained smile.

"Get some lessons from Varric. You're horrible at lying."

"Noted." That time his grin was real. "Sorry, I'm claustrophobic."

"Didn't you go into the Deep Roads a lot?"

"Believe it or not, the Deep Roads are a lot bigger than this cave. Also, I learned there were much scarier things down there."

"Like these broodmother things."

"Yeah."

"Darkspawn mommies, I'm guessing."

"You're not getting more from me. I kind of like to pretend they don't exist. Especially the Mother."

"The what?"

"Long story, that. This is definitely not the place for it."

"Fine, fine." I pouted at him. "Be mean."

"Hey, it's fun."

"Hey, Anders," Carver called back. He was glowering for some reason. "Come up here and help me scout."

"Your brother can be demanding," Anders noted, but jogged to catch up anyway.

Laughing slightly, I turned to check on Aveline, who was glaring at the poor rocks. "So, Miss Guard-Captain-" I began teasingly.

"I'm _not_ taking bribes," she snapped.

I stared in confusion. "Um, Aveline?"

"Huh?" She flushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Hawke. It's gotten to be an automatic response."

"So, you've been having some trouble?"

"Mostly with those who think that I should follow my predecessor's ways." She sighed. "It's all right. I'm coping. Mostly."

"Let me know if you need help, Aveline."

"I will. For now, though, I'm content to let that nice man I'm growing to like help out instead."

…Did I just hear…? "Aveline?"

"Not. One. Word."

"You got it." Still, I couldn't help but grin. It was good that she was starting to look around at other people. It showed that she was healing from Wesley's death. If only Mother would do the same. …Okay, not that I actually wanted Mother to _remarry_, but noticing that people were attractive was a good sign of someone moving on. Or noticing that people were trying to court her. Seriously, there were a few shopkeepers who kept on trying, but she just didn't notice. I was about to suggest that they send her flowers. Maybe lilies, even. Lilies were among Mother's favorite flowers.

"Found them," Carver called back. Aveline and I quickly jogged up to the room where he and Anders were standing. That wasn't the smartest of ideas, though, as I quickly realized that they had the advantage in this giant room.

"Chances of negotiating?" I asked.

"None," Carver answered blandly as a bunch of Qunari jumped down from the higher levels to try and stab us with giant spears. "Plan?"

"Anders? What wide range magic do you know?"

"Firestorm, Inferno, and Blizzard," Anders easily answered.

"What's the different between a firestorm and an inferno?" Aveline asked as she pulled us down so that she could more easily defend the three of us with her shield. She was the only one wearing decent armor, after all. I would have to look into that, someday.

"Firestorm sends multiple fireballs down from the sky. Inferno swirls fire around like a tornado. Blizzard, for the record, is the ice version of Firestorm."

"I know Firestorm and Blizzard," I told him. "Which would you prefer unleashing on them?"

"Fire. But isn't it mean to use magic on them? They're so afraid of it, after all."

"Did they actually give classes on sarcasm at the Circle or did you just learn that on your own?" I glanced around. "Okay. Aveline, Carver, get to the sides. I want you two to ambush the ones that don't get caught, all right? But stay away from the flames. Once we unleash it, it's _very_ hard to control. Friendly fire is highly possible."

"Strange how unfriendly friendly fire is," Carver grumbled. "All right. Let's follow Sister's brilliant plan." Did he _have_ to mock me?

Sighing in aggravation, I forced myself to calm down as I focused on heating the air. As Aveline and Carver slipped away, Anders stood next to me to make the process faster, and the resulting spell more powerful. We ignored the Qunari that crept closer, ready to skewer us. Everything was the magic in the air.

"Ready?" I finally whispered.

"Yeah," Anders replied. "Three… two… one…"

We let go of the spell and jumped back as a fire tornado swirled into being. Qunari screamed from both fear and pain as the flames wrapped around them and wouldn't let go. I turned away, feeling sick to my stomach. The memory of Saarebas was still in my head, and it was hard to take in the fact that I'd just condemned many to the same fate. Even if they deserved it.

"You should watch," Anders scolded. "You owe it to them."

"Yeah, except I want to run in and save them, because I didn't save Saarebas," I muttered. "Man, I'm a hypocrite."

"Not sure if you're using that word correctly, but they're almost all ash." I glanced back to see that he was right. "And there go Aveline and Carver taking care of the rest. For most of them, I'd say it was a mercy-kill."

"Hey, you're a healer. How do you stand it?"

"By knowing that they were likely the cause of many wounds I've had to heal." He glanced at me with concern. "Hawke, you feeling okay?"

…Wait, I was making people worry about me. No, that was the exact _opposite_ of what I was supposed to do. I had to be strong, like Father, which meant not letting just one person's death rattle me so much. "Yeah, fine." I desperately looked around and was glad to note that there were no more hiding. Once Aveline and Carver were done, we could get back to Kirkwall. Then, I could report to Javaris and pretend today never happened.

* * *

Upon entering Kirkwall's gates, Anders raced off to make sure there had been no emergencies while he was away and Carver went to make sure Bethany didn't kill our uncle. Aveline came with me to the docks, where we'd find the Qunari Compound, and that's where I saw someone unexpected.

"Fenris, what are you doing here?" I asked, surprised to see the elf walking about here.

"I have been looking for you," he explained with some awkwardness. "You didn't return to the Hanged Man last night." …Oh, shoot. I'd told him I would, too. "I thought to come here on a whim, only to find you near the Qunari. Why is that? You shouldn't get involved with them."

I already knew that, thank you very much. "Someone hired me to kill some Tal-Vashoth. I'm going to get my pay."

"Is that so?" He was frowning, but I was quickly learning that was his normal look. "Would you like some assistance? I know something about the Qunari."

"Please and thank you." I smiled. "I know next to nothing, and Aveline's in the same boat."

"Then let us head inside."

Nodding a brief greeting to the Qunari in charge of the gate, I walked inside, hoping that I seemed confident. I had to be.

"Ah, and here's my right hand!" Javaris exclaimed as soon as he saw me approach the area where a series of steps led to a throne. "Summon your Arishok. The bargain's been done." As a Qunari (wow, they looked all alike) went into the closed off area behind the makeshift throne, he grumbled to me, "about time you showed. I've been here for hours."

"Well, maybe you should learn a little patience," I growled at him. "That _might_ make them more amicable to you."

If he had a reply, the words didn't seem important as a Qunari who seemed just plain _different_ from the others appeared and sat in the throne. Everything about him screamed threatening warrior, yet he kept his motions still and calm. He had discipline and attempted to treat everyone with equal disdain. So, this was the Arishok. I wouldn't want to fight him, ever.

His calm mask slipped only when Fenris stepped forward, and said words that I couldn't quite hear, and certainly couldn't understand. "The Qun from an elf?" he asked with a steady voice. "The madness of this place continues."

"Friend of yours, Fenris?" Aveline asked.

"Friend of no one," Fenris corrected.

"Well, no matter," Javaris stated, seizing control of the conversation. "I'm here to report that your hated Tal-Vashoth are dead. So, let's get to bargaining, yes?"

The Arishok leaned forward, looking as if he was staring at a bug, before replying, "no."

"He's not getting it," he hissed to me. "Get your-"

"Stay silent so that you don't get us killed," I retorted quietly. "Fenris? Please?"

"I humbly request clarification from the Arishok," Fenris stated clearly. More quietly, he told me, "the Qunari do not renegade a fair bargain. There is more that is not being said."

"I have a growing lack of disgust for you, elf," the Arishok stated. "The dwarf imagined the bargain. He created a task to prove worth when he had none."

"We have wrongly inserted ourselves," he murmured. "Shall we kill the dwarf?" I could get to like Fenris.

"If you faced Tal-Vashoth, then he is not worthy of dying to you." The Arishok sat back down. "Just as he was not worthy of dying to them." Suddenly his gaze fell on me. "You, however, keep good company. I would ask why you are with this dwarf?"

I sighed. My head was throbbing. Again. "I needed the money and he promised."

"Dwarf!" the Arishok suddenly barked. "Did your imaginary bargain make promises on my behalf?" …Did he actually hear me from way up there?

Javaris looked nervous. "I had thought… this would be more profitable…"

The Arishok glared at him before suddenly standing, growling, "Then you will _pay_ on my behalf." Javaris grumbled as he threw a small pouch of money and me and stormed off. Sighing, I pocketed it, resolving not to count until I was a good distance from here.

"Let's get moving," Aveline suggested. "I think we're done here."

"Agreed," Fenris murmured.

"Right, to the safehouse," I sighed again. This was such a long day.

As we turned away, though, the Arishok ordered, "Hold."

I glanced back over my shoulder as the others continued out. His 'place', his rules. "Yes?" I replied.

"Since we arrived, I have seen nothing but greed and weakness. Dwarves, elves, and humans festering in this squalor no order or goal in mind. You are one of the few I have seen with any ability. Yet even this was born from selfishness." He studied me. "You turn from me without fear. Do you turn as easily from this chaos?"

"I hate this city." Something told me to be honest with him. "I loathe it, even. I'm not sure if fleeing the Blight to here was better than staying in Fereldan. But this is the choice that I made, so I must live with it." I turned to face him fully and look him in the eye. "But, in this chaos, I see opportunity to find the means to protect my family. That's my duty and pleasure."

He looked intrigued by my reply as he stood. I couldn't help but notice that the Arishok was freaking _huge _as he slowly descended down the steps. "Karasten are soldiers. The Qun made them so. They never very from this path, unable to be anything more than they are meant to be. However, they are free to choose within that role. To accept and succeed or to deny and die. Glory is clear and defined. Goals are set and marked. Yet you state that you have found such a role here, in this mire of a city? I find that hard to believe."

"Is what you speak of certainty, or slavery?"

"I am not the one to educate. That is not _my_ role."

Damn. "I see." I bowed formally. "Farewell."

"One more moment." Really? For someone so stoic, he sure did like to talk. "The pendant you wear is one we give to Sarebaas." I was slightly impressed he noticed the necklace, given the distance between us. "How did you come into possession of such a thing?"

"I was asked to escort one outside of the city. We came in contact with a group led by…" I paused as I tried to remember what that Qunari had been called. "Arvaarad? Sorry if I butchered the pronunciation. But I came in contact with him and it ended… messily." Should I be _this_ honest? "Afterwards, Keto… Sarebaas gave me this pendant and set himself on fire to abide by the Qun."

"Most impressive." That was _not_ what I expected to hear. "I had thought Arvaarad could not be bested."

"You're not angry?"  
"The job was done. Sarebaas is dead. That is all that matters." It was? "The rest, as I said, is impressive. Do not do it again."

"Keto… Sarebaas refused freedom." Why was I saying this? "Chose death over leaving the Qun."

"Good."

"That's it?" I was going to have nightmares over this! I couldn't… well, he chose and I… I watch him _burn_.

"I will not insult Sarebaas in believing making the right decision was difficult one. I expect as much out of any Qunari." But… but why? "Is that hard to grasp?"

I wanted to wince, but I kept it all in. "No. Farewell."

"Panahedan, human."

I turned and walked away again, this time without being stopped. Fenris and Aveline were waiting for me with some confusion. I stopped their questions with one of my own.

"What does baasvaarad mean?" I asked Fenris quietly.

"Foreign one who holds back evil," Fenris replied easily. "It can also mean foreign one worthy of following."

"I see."

"Why?"

"No reason." I wanted to sleep. But there was one last thing to deal with.

* * *

I'd planned on going alone, but Aveline figured it out very quickly and Fenris insisted on tagging along. So, I entered the safehouse with the two of them at my side. Quietly, of course. I wanted to scare the lying sister.

"Leave nothing," she ordered her templar pet.

"Afraid someone will find something?" I asked as a greeting. She looked up, startled. "Hi. I'm back."

"I… I see." She tried to recover her composure. "You led the Qunari outside? Without incident?"

"You know quite well what we faced," Aveline growled. If we had more than suspicions, I knew without a doubt that Aveline would've had them in irons.

"Mind your tongue, Fereldan!" the templar snapped, reaching for his sword.

Petrice stopped him with a look, though. "Please," she said. "Do speak your mind."

"I'd rather not play games," I sighed. "You know that I know."

"Whether you believe it or not, I wished you no harm." She continued talking for a bit, but it was nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic, so I interrupted her.

"You dodge and deny even now, you idiot." I felt my magic pulse as my temper began to slip. "Are you even aware of what you're saying? How many lives will be lost?"

"History shall sing grandly of their sacrifice," she told me loftily, angry over the fact that I'd interrupted her.

"But how do you make it up to the dead who will never hear those songs?" I demanded. She didn't answer. "You're a short sighted bitch."

"The insults of a Lowtown thug are hardly a matter of concern." She smiled smugly. "It's not an insult. It's why I chose you."

"This is where I inform you that I'm related to the Amells and have connections to the Guard-Captain and Varric Tethras _and_ the Red Iron." I glared coldly. "You're a real idiot if you think that a 'thug' can't make your life miserable."

"Here's your coin," she spat, throwing a pouch at me. "Disappear back into the slums. I will not make the mistake of looking outside the Faithful again."

"Alas that the Maker has _you_ among his followers! No wonder he turned away from us, with people like you trying to invoke his name as a justification for rampant _murder_." She raised her hand as if to smack me. "Do go on and hit me. I'll show you just why the Red Iron hired me."

"And I shall serve as witness for self-defense," Aveline stated firmly. "_I'm_ the Captain of the Guard and you, Sister, have made quite a few mistakes for you so-called grand vision."

"We don't have to go that far," Fenris muttered. "I could kill them right now with none the wiser."

"Yes, but we're better than the two of them," I stated bluntly. "So we'll give them a chance to mend their ways, just like the Maker insists. I _will_ be informing the Grand Cleric, however, and should we cross paths again, I will not be as merciful." I glared. "Remember that, Petrice." She huffed and stomped off without even a word, her templar pet trailing behind her faithfully. So nice to see a grown woman take a scolding like a two year old. "Let's get out of here."

Aveline quickly left to file a report, and to talk to the Grand Cleric for me. I was really grateful for that as I was looking forward to just getting some sleep. However, as I walked across the street and reached for the door, two sets of arguments hit my ears. Oh, terrific. There went any chances of sleep.

"Is something wrong?" I turned in surprise as I saw Fenris standing close by. He hadn't left yet? "Is this not where you live?" he continued, confused.

"It is." I forced a smile. "Well, good-" The argument got louder and I couldn't help but wince. Maker, damn it.

"If you are in need of another place to stay for the night, Danarius's mansion has too many rooms." He sounded awkward about it.

But the chance for a peaceful sleep was far too tempting, so I sent a silent prayer of forgiveness to Father's spirit as I agreed. "Yes, I do need a more peaceful place to stay for the night. Thank you."

* * *

Fenris had gone around cleaning up the place. There were no bloodstains or smells of corpses. There were some doors locked up tight, hinting he might've just relocated some things, but there _were_ plenty of rooms still untouched and the place was only a little cold.

"You mind if I use magic to start up a fire?" I asked as I slowly relaxed in one of the most comfortable chairs ever. If nothing else, that Danarius guy really did like his luxuries.

"Is that not too mundane for a mage?" he retorted. It came out somewhat mockingly, but there was some surprise in it, too.

"Showy magic has showy costs. I prefer using magic to make things a little easier, but still something that can be explained away. It's like sleight of hand."

"I… see…"

"So, may I?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." Very carefully, I called a small fireball to my palm and lightly tossed it into the nearby fireplace. In an instant, warmth, and light, burst into the room. "And now we have living conditions."

"Funny. I was about to say luxuries."

…Right, slave. Great. "Speaking of luxuries," I began, hoping to switch the subject. "What are you holding?"

"Agreggio Pavali," he said as he held up the bottle of wine. "There's some in the cellar. Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance seemed to intimidate them, to his amusement."

"On appearance alone?" I laughed. "I can't imagine why."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" He took a swig from the bottle before throwing it as hard as he could at the nearby wall. "It's good I can take pleasure in small things like that," he whispered with a small smile.

"A _proper_ host would've offered his guest a glass first," I teased, relaxing. This was nice.

He shrugged. "There's more if you're really interested."

"And leave you with nothing to redecorate your walls?" He laughed at that. "Hey, you've had a difficult life. Do you need to talk? I'm willing to listen."

"To my whining? How charitable." He sat down across from me. "Did you not come here to rest?"

"I don't have the energy to mediate an argument, so I ask that you don't start one. But other than that?" I smiled. "I like helping my friends."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "And how do I begin this… talk?"

"You could start with the past? Typically a nice place to start."

"I've wanted to leave my past behind me. But it won't stay." He looked angered for a moment and then _abruptly_ changed the subject. "Have you ever wanted to return to Ferelden?"

"Lothering was my home." The longest we ever stayed in one place. We'd moved around a lot. "Now that it's destroyed, I have no home left."

"But the Blight is over. You could rebuild what you lost."

"Which requires quite a bit of coin and moving our family again, but this time without the hope of a roof over our heads." I shook my head. "No. It's an attractive idea, but nothing more."

"I think I understand. Still, the option must be nice."

"Has it been a long time since you escaped?" I asked, curious.

"Three years…" he mumbled, lost in thought. "Danarius seems to have a way of finding me. It's never taken him long to follow. Though, this is the first time he's retreated. Perhaps there _is_ an advantage to numbers."

"You haven't sought help before?"

He shook his head. "Hirelings, when I could steal the coin. You, however, are the first one of any quality." His gaze hardened. "Regardless, Danarius will not give up. I wait for his return."

"And if he does not?"

"Then I will go to him. I will not live with a wolf at my back."

"…I suppose… I could understand that."

"What would you do, in this situation?"

"To tell the truth? If he didn't seek me, then I wouldn't seek him. Perhaps it is foolish, but I…" I paused, thinking. "My father and I were always the bread-winners of the family, the protectors. With him gone, there's only me." Though I could only flail about at it. "I could not leave for vengeance."

"This is assuming Danarius will not come, which will be quite out of character for him."

"Until that time comes, whatever happens, you could make a home here, I think." I smiled slightly. "It's not so bad, once you get your footing."

"I could see myself staying." He returned the smile, smaller than my own. "I should thank you again for helping me with the hunters. Had I known Anso would find me a woman so capable, I might have asked him to look sooner."

"Flatterer," I teased. "You sound like you're about to ask me for a loan."

"Well, this place does require upkeep." Maker, he _does_ joke! You just had to get him into a good mood.

I laughed. "I'm glad to have been able to help. And it turned out well enough, yes?"

"It did at that. However, you had come over for a peaceful rest and I keep you from it. Another time."

I stood up, stretching. "Thanks again, by the way."  
"Is there much arguing at your house?"

"Not normally that loud." I sighed. "Carver hates being cooped up; Bethany is scared. Mother is upset because she'd thought she'd be able to help us; Uncle Gamlen is nursing old wounds. They're bad combinations."

"Yet, you do not argue with them?"

"What's the point?" I shrugged. "I'm supposed to be protecting them, not making them miserable." I smiled. "Good night, Fenris. And thanks again. I'll be right as rain in the morning."

* * *

Author's note – Black powder promise, turning in of Shepherding wolves, and the 'after recruitment' conversation with Fenris. I guess a lot happens in this chapter.

Yes, I know. Haven't technically done the Anders and Isabela conversations yet. They will be later, though Bela's shall be modified because I am not showing the quest that comes along with it. I have to make cuts _somewhere_. You'll notice that there are no fetch quests here, or mentions of Worthy, Elegant, and Tomwise. I don't need more to juggle.

There are quotes from Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) here, with mild variations. Javaris is an annoying bastard. Hints for later events (most notably Aveline's act 2 companion quest). Yadayadayada, blahdeblahdeblah.

Sorry for this being late (and I was doing so well with the once a week thing). I've discovered I have four wisdom teeth, all but one being impacted, and that's taken up a lot of my time. Finally gotten a consultation set, though, so we'll see how it all goes. As it is, I'm not sure how good the chapter is, considering I worked on it in very small chunks and might've accidentally contradicted myself at some point…

Next Chapter – Break time with Aveline.


	11. Chapter 10) The Captain and the Hawk

**Kirkwall – Hightown – 9:31**

_The Captain and the Hawk_

* * *

"_Wait, hold on," the Seeker begins. "She went an entire day without resting?"_

"_Yes," the dwarf replies._

"_That's unhealthy."_

"_Yeah, we noticed. Especially Aveline. You do _not_ get in her way when she finds out that you haven't been taking care of yourself. Allow me to give an example, since it follows right after the trying days."_

* * *

So, funny story. Aveline, apparently, went to my house early in the morning, to discover that I hadn't been home last night. After giving my family a stern lecture over keeping track of me, she proceeded to look all over Kirkwall, eventually finding me in the Hightown Market where I'd stopped after leaving Fenris's place (he'd gone to do some mercenary job before I woke up) to see if I could get a good bargain on some scarves for Bethany and gloves for Carver. And the reason for all this? She remembered that I hadn't had a decent meal at all yesterday and, as a result, was dragging me over to her place for food.

"So, how's everything been with the guard?" I asked as I relaxed in Aveline's small house. It was located in what was nicknamed 'Midtown', the lower section of Hightown that was home to the influential non-nobility, and was wonderfully cozy. It reminded me heavily of my home back in Lothering, which the other villagers had helped us build when they realized that Father was going to stay and help them with their injuries.

"It's been a mess," Aveline answered wearily as she set about cooking. She didn't claim to be the best cook, but she was going at it the same way she did everything: 110%. "Jevan had debts to practically every criminal known in Kirkwall, and a few we didn't know of. He'd been skimming from paychecks and, worse, purposely gave his own guards defective armor to make them easier targets."

"How did no one suspect anything?"

"They had a bad habit of ending up dead."

"Well, I'd give him that point of cleverness, except that people speaking out against another ending up dead is suspicious."

"Not when those guards were also known for taking the more dangerous missions, unfortunately."

"Oh, I see. So the competent ones made sure they took the dangerous jobs, and were the only ones who had the courage to look into it and then…" Then they'd end up dead, assumed to be due to a mistake during a mission where any mistake was fatal. "Kirkwall has a bad set of circumstances. The good ones either die or aren't told of the full problem until it's way too late to do anything but salvage the damages."

"Kirkwall is just waiting to fall. It's our job to try and prevent it."

"And if it's not possible?"

"Then we must minimize the damages. That's my job as the Guard, and _your_ job as a skilled fighter."

I wasn't all _that_ skilled, but I was thankful she thought so. "Well, let me know if you need any help," I told her as I leaned back in the comfy chair in her kitchen. "I know I've already told you this, but I'll play guard for you."

"Thank you, Hawke. I'll definitely be needed you. At least until I can get all the armor fixed."

"Have you talked to Varric?"

"Yes, he turned it into a discussion of obtaining the Hanged Man."

…Must not laugh, even though that seemed _hilarious_. "Still, though. I'm sure he's working on it even now."

"Perhaps." There was a long bout of silence. "I heard the Chant of Remembrance a few days ago."

"Oh?"

"I was startled to hear Wesley's name." She glanced at me as she finished up with her cooking. I thought I recognized the smell, but couldn't _quite_ place it. "Did you have something to do with that?"

"Are you angry?"

"I'm surprised and touched."

"I figured a good way to honor him." Time for a minor subject change. "So, what did the Grand Cleric say about Petrice?"

"She's been sentenced to some sort of penance and the templar who was with her is being dealt with by the templars." Aveline's words were clipped and she was all but glaring at the food.

"I gather it's not nearly enough."

"I fear the Grand Cleric might have too soft a hand on this. That is all I'll say on the matter."

"Sounds like your report went well." My words were dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm just worried that if she's lax here, she'll be lax when she can't afford it." She glanced at me. "And yes, I know you were being sarcastic. I ignored it."

"Who? Me? Aveline, my dear, you wound me!"

"Yeah, yeah." She came over with two steaming plates. "It won't be the best you've eaten, but it's edible."

"Fereldan dishes!" I laughed once I saw what it was. "Oh, Aveline, marry me!"

"I might consider it, if you ever get a decent job. Like joining the guard proper instead of just freelancing like you plan to do."

"Which I _just_ reiterated. Aveline, we've gone through this already."

"I know. Just thought I'd try again. You'd be good."

"I'd give you so many headaches for going off on my own."

"No different from now." She sighed. "But I understand. We'll just muddle along a little more, yes?" I almost protested that she didn't need to concern herself so much, but I knew I'd be wasting breath. I was almost certain the reason why she'd so firmly latched onto my family had been because she had to prove to herself that she could still protect _something_ after Wesley's death. Not that I minded. She was a good woman and a better friend. Especially when she wasn't nagging.

"I appreciate it, Aveline."

"And you and I should do some sword training. I'll drag the others into it. It'll be good for you to learn some different techniques."

"You can't get me to join the guards, so you're going to have me train with them?"

"Not necessarily. Just me."

"I might prefer the former," I teased. "I think I'll be less likely to break a bone!"

"Yeah, yeah. There's extra if you want some. I made sure to make a lot for you to bring back. I knew you'd insist." Well, yeah. This was delicious and I'd feel horrible for enjoying it without giving my family a chance to. "There's a basket in the kitchen. I'll go get it."

I'd just finished eating, and Aveline had just returned with the basket of food, when a voice suddenly exclaimed, "Hawke! I've come to save you!" Next thing I knew, Isabela was in the doorway. "Hello, darling!"

"Hi, Isabela," I greeted with an amused smile as Aveline frowned.

"I know that door was locked," she muttered.

"You need better locks," Isabela told her. "That was too easy." Isabela!

"I'm sure she's just pulling your leg, Aveline," I quickly covered. "She's teasing like that."

"And flirtatious." She winked as I stood up, basket in hand. "Can't forget that."

"Hard to, with how you're dressed."

"Hey, I let people know what they're getting the moment I step into the room. Also, less clothes to clean. Big perk, especially when you live on the seas like I did."

"So, Isabela," Aveline interrupted warily. I knew that tone. That tone spelled trouble, because Aveline was thinking you weren't being 'good', and Aveline was very much in doing what was right. "You're a captain?"

"That's right, big girl," Isabela answered mockingly. Oh,_ this _wasn't going to be good. "What of it?"

"I don't remember your name on any registries." Aveline, whoever your spies were, they were _scary_. "Every ship that docks has to declare."

"I never docked. Not that it matters. You're not a port authority."

"And you're not a merchant."

"Oh, what intimidating scrutiny." Isabela was really into the mocking now. "My goodness. Do men find you intimidating? I've heard you're a widow. Did he-?"

"Isabela!" I snapped with a glare as Aveline looked away to try and not show any pain in front of Isabela.

"What? Too soon?"

"Too _everything_!"

"So, sore spot."

"If she doesn't shut up, I'm _giving_ her one," Aveline growled. She gave me a look that was partly thankful, and partly exasperated. I shrugged helplessly in reply. Certainly didn't expect Isabela to go that route.

"Well, I apologize, I guess," Isabela sighed. "Captain."

"Don't call me that."

"Really? You sure? You can call _me_ 'Captain' too."

"No, I won't be doing that."

"Thank Andraste's ass, because you're a guard captain. No real authority, not like a ship."

"Well, I'm sure you know about having a large number of men under you."

"Look at you being funny! That might even get you a man someday!"

"Shut up, whore."

"I think I interrupt here again," I sighed. "Maker, help me."

"I need to get ready for my meeting with the Seneschal," Aveline agreed, glaring at Isabela, but then smiling at me. "Hawke, take it easy."

"With my family? I'll try." I would've said more, but Isabela was dragging me from the house fast enough that I almost dropped the basket. "So, pirate, what in the Void?"

"Eh, got bored and decided to save you from the _captain_," she answered easily. "Plus, I wanted details."

"About?"

"What you were doing at Fenris's, of course!" Did everyone in Kirkwall know what I did?! "I met him at the Hanged Man that night. Lovely on the eyes. He's got such strong hands, and back, and b-"

"We talked a little and then I went to bed in the nice quiet house," I interrupted hurriedly. "Honestly, Isabela, you're hopeless."

"What? Nothing? Not even a little kiss?"

"He dislikes being touched."

"Huh. Well, I guess that would make things a little difficult."

"Isabela!"

"So, you go from simple chat to eating with Lady Man-Hands there?"

"More or less, though I do wish you'd not call Aveline that."

"Man, you must've had a boring day," Isabela laughed, ignoring me. "Come on! Let's cause some trouble!" Uh oh.

* * *

"I'm back," I called as I entered the house after barely managing to convince Isabela that teasing guards on duty was _not_ a good idea. As was causing a bar fight. And mocking the Coterie. And hanging out at the Blooming Rose. And drawing on the religious statues. I half thought Isabela picked ridiculous antics to try just to see my reactions. By the end of it, I was tempted to let her do something, but held firm. Finally got her distracted by some guy at the Hanged Man and left her to it.

"Althea!" I barely heard Mother cry before she had me in a hug. "Are you all right, dear? You can't imagine the fright I had when no one knew where you were!"

…Hadn't thought about _that_ last night. How could I be so selfish? "Sorry, Mother. I was so tired, so I just stayed at a friend's. I didn't expect Aveline to come looking for me or for me to sleep in so late."

"What was it about, dear?"

"Nothing that couldn't be taken care of easily." I held up the basket I'd been hiding behind my back. Somehow, it had held up during Isabela's adventure time. "Aveline made extra, so she sent them with me. They're some Fereldan dishes."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Mother let go of me at last and smiled warmly. "I'll set up some plates, then. Did you eat earlier?"

"Yes, Mother. It was so hard to eat cooking that wasn't yours, but I managed."

"Flatterer."

"Also, go sit down and rest, Mother. Let your kids do the work. That's one of the perks of having them, you know."

"And here I thought it was merely the sheer delight in watching you three become such wonderful adults." Mother beamed. "But I'll sit down and watch. Bethany picked me some wildflowers earlier, so I think I'll arrange them to make the dining table pretty tonight."

"I just said to rest!"

"It _is_ restful."

"Fine, be stubborn." Mother laughed lightly and I couldn't help but smile. "Hey, twins, there's food!"

"Wait, Sister brought food?" Carver asked as he came out from the bedroom. "Do we need to prepare for food poisoning?"

"Haha," I retorted. "Shut up. Aveline made this, so you'd better like it or she's going to beat you into the ground during a training session."

"I don't train with her."

"You will now. Signed you right up."

"What?! No way! I'm not!"

"Guess I'll surpass you, then."

"What? No, not happening. I'll go."

"Well, that was easy."

"You still suck at cooking."

"Mama didn't think about having a girly daughter until Bethany came along. Oh, and you, I guess."

"Haha."

"Well, you must've had a good rest," Bethany commented with a laugh as she skipped into the room. I didn't blame her. This was probably the happiest we'd all been since arriving in Kirkwall. "You sound back to normal."

"It was wonderfully restful," I confirmed as I continued setting out the plates. Aveline had made a _lot_ of food. "Who's getting the mugs?"

"Uncle is."

"I'll go help him." I highly doubted he knew where we put the clean dishes, though I appreciated him helping out. "You two continue here."

"Okay!"

I arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear Uncle grumble, "where is blasted Andraste's name are those things?"

"Try the cupboard above the sink?" I suggested with an innocent smile.

He gave me a dirty look as he opened to find them there. "Why can't you call put them in a place that makes sense?"

"What? Dirty on the table like that bowl of porridge that hasn't moved?"

"Very funny. Wasn't aware your father was a jester on top of being a mercenary and an apostate."

"What makes you think I got it from him?"

"Leandra's more polite." Sorry? "Oh, and dear, next time you head out, make sure to pick up some more apple blossom tea. We'll be out in a couple of days at this rate."

I smiled at that. Apple blossom tea was Mother's absolute favorite drink in the world and Uncle Gamlen always made sure we had a good supply. "Will do, Uncle. Now, let's eat. Have you had any of these before? They're simple, but delicious. Trust me."

* * *

Author's note: So, just a short chapter showcasing Aveline and Hawke's relationship, as well as family interaction for Hawke which the game sadly lacks. Also, Aveline officially meeting Isabela. What a wonderful start to a friendship, huh? Their conversation takes snippets from almost all of their Act 1 party banter.

This chapter sprung up from me having the mental image of Aveline cooking for the group while playing the actual game. I think it was Act III, when Aveline and Isabela were talking about Aveline's… garden party thing (can't quite remember). Point is, the idea of Aveline taking care of Hawke just wouldn't leave my head and, thus, chapter. I got to include some other stuff in it.

Sorry it's late. College started up and right towards the end of summer a cat of mine got horribly ill, so yeah. (He's recovered now, thank goodness.) Also, I realized something I wanted to do and had to outline it out and make sure I didn't contradict myself. Warning everyone now, Act III will be a little (lot) different than what the game has, due to my Hawke complaining. Loudly. Anyway, updates will be slower than they've been (big surprise) due to college and me curious as to what information about Inquisition we'll get (foreshadowing fun!).

Btw, has everyone heard the big news about DA3? We get to choose races again! Check out Gameinformer. We also got some renders of the races. And, you know, other stuff. (such as possible gameplay footage of _horses _and some info on how they're hoping to pull off battles.)

Next chapter – Magistrate's Orders. The only quest where you have a decision where damn near everyone agrees. Rather impressive, in a twisted way.


	12. Chapter 11) The Magistrate's Orders

**Kirkwall – Lowtown, Hightown, Cave – 9:31**

_The Magistrate's Orders_

* * *

"_Strange, I'd heard the two were good friends," the Seeker whispers._

"_Which two?" the dwarf asks. "The two captains?"_

"_Well, yes."_

"_You're forgetting this story is a long one. Seven years." He had enjoyed every minute of it, some more than others. "They were two strong females. There was bound to be a few cat fights."_

"_Is that so?" She is silent for a while. "Please, continue. But perhaps something not quite as intensive? What other jobs did she do?"_

_"Well, there was this one job. You know what, let's tell it. Give you a taste of something you'll see far later, in a more terrifying fashion."_

* * *

"Are you Hawke?" That one question from a man in the uniform of a noble's personal bodyguard told me that my relaxing evening with Isabela and Varric had just ended.

"Depends," I answered warily as I set down my mug of water and stood up. "Who are you?"

"We bear a message for Hawke Amell and our orders are to only talk to them, serah." …Who?

"That's what you get for being on a last name basis," Varric joked over his mug of ale as I stared in confusion. "Not the first time I've heard that be associated with you."

"So it _is_ me?" I sighed. "Althea Hawke. Who are you taking orders from?"

"Magistrate Vanard wishes to hire you, serah," the bodyguard said. Not even an apology for getting my name wrong? "You came highly recommended by Meeran of the Red Iron."

"Which means this will be troublesome and dangerous," Isabela pointed out as she downed the rest of her own drink. "What mercenary would turn down a chance to get a Magistrate in his pocket?"

"Stop being wise," I groaned. "So, job?"

"Yes, there is an escaped criminal who must be brought in," the guard explained.

"Why not ask the guard?"

"We have, but they were unable to apprehend him before he disappeared into a cave. The cave houses old ruins, which are unstable, and many monsters and creatures known for being man-eaters. Meeran stated that you were the only one strong enough, and fast enough, to get in and out without difficulties."

"I'm honored by the praise." Even if I was damn certain that it was only to sell this job on me. I wasn't all _that_ good, especially since recent jobs kept cutting into my normal training. "I trust that this is a _paying_ job?"

"The Magistrate intends on paying very well and will remember this." Translation: he'll know what he owes. Well…

"And he won't mind me taking these two along?" I asked as I gestured at Isabela and Varric. Both of them looked startled by that.

"Take any help you believe you may need, but I do warn that this is a matter of speed."

"Can't get much faster than the two of them." Especially when it came to drinks, sex, treasure, and fast-talking. Some of those fitting more than others, of course.

"Many thanks, Serah Hawke." The bodyguard bowed and left the Hanged Man without another word.

"I'm going to regret this," I sighed as I sank back down into my chair and gulped the last of my own water. "I'm going to _so_ regret this."

"_You're_ going to regret this?" Isabela sighed. "I was looking forward to seducing that man over there!"

"You can do so later. As a reward for good behavior."

"But I like bad behavior better. More fun."

"And why am I coming along?" Varric asked. "I could have stuff to do, you know."

"Varric, you're hanging out with me in the Hanged Man," I pointed out.

"Yes, which was rudely interrupted before I could get to the good story material!" He sighed. "Fine, let's get going. I'm sure I can spin something out of this anyway."

…Story material?

* * *

"Hawke, what are you doing here?" Aveline asked as I approached the cave I was told to go to. It was somewhere between Kirkwall, the Wounded Coast, and Sundermount. That last one was a place I kind of had to go to soon, before a certain witch gave me fire.

"On a job to help out a Magistrate," I answered, startled at the number of guards around. Just who was this criminal? "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. I've yet to hear an adequate explanation for why they're even here."

"Have you pulled credentials?"

"Not yet. I'm surprised I have to."

"Maybe they're blinded by your pretty hair," Isabela suddenly cooed, leaning up at Aveline. "It's _such_ a pretty color. I bet you were so cute as a child."

"The other children teased me for being a ginger," Aveline mumbled awkwardly.

"Really? Must've been jealous. Did you wear pigtails?"

"Sometimes."

"Ah, what a sight! How precious! Little Aveline running about with her faming orange pigtails streaming behind her…" I got a bad feeling at Isabela's sudden pause. "And little boys screaming for mercy as she approached."

"Shut up, whore!"

"Varric, think you can work your magic like you did with Carver and Fenris?" I asked as the two descended into name-calling mockery.

"Yeah, that only worked so often because Elf had no idea what to make of me and Junior finds me funny," Varric answered dryly. "I don't think I can manage to charm the two of them."

"But once you start talking, you win."

"Because I also know when to pick my battles."

"Oh, come on. For me?"

"Don't turn that pouty face on me, Hawke. That's just cruel." What pouty face? "It's against my nature to displease beautiful women." Huh?

"Okay, now you're just trying to get out of it."

"We really need to work on how you take compliments." He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Don't blame me if it goes badly, though. It's fun pulling Aveline's tale, and she's far too serious."

"So long as you can keep them from killing each other, I'll consider it a victory." A thought occurred to me. "Hey, wait. Why don't you give Aveline a nickname?"

"I don't give you one either."

"Hawke's the family name. Technically speaking, _everyone_ calls me by nickname, save my own family."

"Bianca doesn't have one."

"Bianca's a _crossbow_." I noticed a slight wince and wondered what it was about. "Aveline, now?"

"Eh, we talked about it. But the only one we could come up with was 'Red', and that's just not fun."

"You call Fenris 'Elf'."

"He calls me 'dwarf'. It's fitting."

"That bastard is to be brought in alive after all he's done?!" someone suddenly demanded. I was startled to see it was a _furious_ elven man. "Just because it's not _your_ pretty little shemlen children he's after…!"

"If I can interrupt," I began as I entered the argument, leaving Varric behind to deal with the captains. The elf had been yelling at a guard. "But, first off, look at him. I _highly_ doubt he has any pretty children." The guard glared at me, but I shrugged it off. "Second off, what are you talking about?"

"Who are you?"

"Hawke. I was called in to assist in capturing this criminal."

"Capture? After all the elven children he's killed?!" What? "He dragged my daughter in with him and likely killed her! I want him dead!"

"Children?" I repeated very slowly. Behind me, I could hear Aveline, Isabela, and Varric debating what was going on.

The anger in the elf's face disappeared as he slumped. "My girl, Lia, wasn't the first. Over the years, he's slaughtered dozens of our children, and not once has he paid!"

"And you are?"

"Elren, a merchant. Not that my coin does any good."

"Coin?"

"Bribes. Someone keeps bribing the guards to keep that creature alive! Not that anyone cares. The victims are elves, after all."

"And no one does anything, because of bribes." I was _not_ hearing correctly. "You're telling me that this man is killing children? And for that, all he gets is _imprisonment_? In a cage so shoddy that he can constantly escape?!" I was going to _throttle_ every damn judge and lawmaker in the city!

"It's the magistrate's orders," one of the guards mumbled.

The Magistrate can sod off! "I'm killing this criminal because that's what should've been done the second his crimes were discovered. The Magistrate can kiss my ass if he thinks that I'll let a child murderer walk free, no matter _what_ his damn orders are!"

"So, next time I want to make Hawke angry, we'll just mention that children are involved," Varric muttered behind me.

"I can't believe some of my _own guards_ are allowing this," Aveline grumbled. "Jevan has a _lot_ to answer to for letting them get away with this."

"As if I needed more proof about the law sucking," Isabela noted bitterly. "And they don't even have the decency to being good at it."

"Into the cave," I growled. "If the guy isn't dead yet, he's about to be."

"You can't go against-!" one of the guards protested. He backed down at my glare.

"Stand aside if you don't want to become a corpse."

"We need to work on your temper," Varric commented as the guards stood aside.

"I'm fine, Varric. I'm not destroying things randomly yet."

"_Yet_?"

* * *

This place was ridiculous. There were doors that didn't have locks to pick! Who built a place like this? The Tevinters? No wonder they were crazy! Their architecture drove them mad!

"Well, would you know it?" Varric exclaimed angrily. "_Another_ locked door!"

"Does this one have a lock?" Isabela asked wearily.

"Nope."

"Damn it."

"On to the next one," Aveline sighed. "This is the tenth one in a row."

"Okay, this is officially beyond ridiculous," I muttered, at the door as the other three moved ahead. We were just going in circles. Whoever designed this place was either very rushed or took sadistic pleasure in driving people into furious insanity. Ugh, I wanted to find out where in the ground the people were buried and… wait, ground? Earth? Hmm…

Struck by inspiration, I breathed in deep to help my concentration. I silently called for the power of the earth around me, beckoned it to encase my fist in the hardest of stones. My hand glowed a soft, dull green as the magic obeyed my will. When the spell was at its peak power, I punched one of the doors as hard as I could. It cracked on the first hit; it shattered on the second.

"I found a shortcut!" I called gleefully. "Come back here!"

"Where did that come from?" Aveline demanded as she appeared. "We were just here."

"Okay, it's more like I made one, but see?" I was ridiculously happy about this.

"I _adore_ a woman who can punch through doors," Isabela teased as she slinked up. "Did I mention that?"

"You have weird tastes, Isabela."

"I know. But they're _so_ delicious."

"Hey, Hawke?" Varric began as he glanced up at the ceiling. "What are the chances this place will fall on us?"

"High."

"Then let's get moving."

* * *

It took two more broken doors, but we found someone. Not our criminal, but an elf girl. Actually, it was more like we scared her witless, but that was neither here nor there.

"Who are you?" she asked. She was a very pretty elven girl, not much older than fifteen, if that. "Can you get me out of here? I really want to go home."

"Don't fret, sweet thing," Isabela immediately cooed. I was beginning to notice she had _quite_ the soft spot for children. "What's your name, pretty girl?"

"Lia."

"Elren's daughter?" Aveline asked. "The merchant?"

"You know my father?"

"Yes," I answered. "Well, in a way. He's the one who told us you'd been kidnapped. He thought you dead."

"Is my father safe?" she asked, stepping closer. "Kelder said he'd hurt my family if I didn't come with him."

"Yes, he's safe." Providing the guards hadn't done anything to him. "Isabela? Scout ahead for us, please?"

"On it," Isabela answered, loping off. She was definitely in 'serious' mode.

"Now, who is Kelder?" I asked.

"The man who took me," Lia whispered. She stepped a little closer, slowly reassuring herself that she was safe.

I studied her as best as I could with the small distance and no magic. "Doesn't look like you've any cuts or scrapes. Bruises?"

"Yes…" She rubbed her arms self-consciously. "He hit me. Told me I was nothing." Well, someone just shot up a few more notches on the 'kill brutally' list, and he was already pretty damn high! "I begged him to stop."

"Did he try anything else, child?" Aveline asked softly. "Anything… untoward?"

"Untoward?"

"Did he… sexually assault you?" Aveline, great job in being tactful.

"Oh! No, he didn't!" Yay for small miracles. "Out of nowhere, he shoved me away and… and he started crying." She stepped a little closer. "He didn't mean to hurt me! He told me! There are demons and they make him do horrible things." A demon made him do it? That excuse didn't even work for mages, who were under constant threat. No _way_ was it going to work for a murderer.

"Sweetheart, some people don't need demons to be cruel," Varric muttered. He'd been horribly quiet this whole time. "Just look at the Merchant's Guild." He said it like a joke, but I wasn't sure it should've been. His eyes were too bitter.

"But… but Kelder told me to run!" Lia protested. "To get away so they couldn't make him hurt me anymore. Please, don't kill him. It's not his fault."

Yes, it damn was. "I'll talk with him," I told her. "If he cooperates, perhaps I'll get him out of here." Not freaking likely. The guy should've been killed after the first one! "There's a series of broken doors behind us. Follow them to the entrance. Your father should be out there, okay?"

"Thank you." She smiled sweetly and raced away.

"We're still killing him, right?" Varric asked.

"Yeah, but we'll get a laugh at how he tries to justify himself."

"I could use a laugh," Isabela announced as she bounded back. "There's a door, but it's not locked and, more importantly, I heard someone inside. Seemed to be talking to himself."

Perfect. "Onward," I ordered. "And hopefully we'll get a damn good laugh."

* * *

As we approached the nicely dressed man in the (hopefully) last room of the place, he looked up at us and sighed. "I knew my father would send someone," he murmured, pushing himself up. "I just wish the monsters had gotten me first."

"Oh, so you came here to die?" I asked, some mockery slipping into my voice. "How gratious of you."

"It's what I deserve." He leaned slightly against one of the pillars in the otherwise empty room. "Torn apart, not protected."

"Well, nice to agree with a psychopath."

"Hawke, maybe I should talk?" Varric suggested quickly.

"Why?" Isabela asked. "I'm having fun watching."

"Because we're supposed to get a laugh out of his explanation," Aveline reminded. "Not out of Hawke."

"Oh, fine."

Varric stepped up and I retreated to quietly seethe next to Aveline and Isabela. They were right. I wasn't going to be listening for an 'explanation'. Mostly because there was no way to _explain_ this. "So, Keldar, right? Who _is_ your father?" Varric asked with remarkable politeness.

"Magistrate Vanard."

"Someone's more interested in keeping his job than doing it," I muttered, remembering the name as the guy who hired me. Damn him.

"I'll put a stop to that," Aveline swore. "What a despicable man."

"No, Father is a good man," Keldar protested. "He's done what he can to help, to stop me. But he can't. No one can."

"I'm sure a knife in the gut will help plenty," Isabela grumbled.

"That elf girl… she had no right to be so beautiful, so perfect. The demons said she had to be taught a lesson, like all the others."

"Wait, so why did you tell her to run?" Varric asked.

"I was… I was crying, and she asked if I was all right. After all the times I hurt her, she asked if I was okay." Lia, you are a sweet soul and that saved your life. "How could I destroy something so good? So pure?"

"You did a good job with the others," Isabela retorted.

"Shut up, whore," Aveline ordered without heat. "We're letting Varric talk because the three of us just want to gut him."

"No, I want to as well," Varric corrected. "I'm just still hoping for the funny part. Speaking of which, what were you saying about not having a right to being beautiful?"

"She was too beautiful," Keldar explained. "Like the others."…Too beautiful. He _killed children_ because they were _too beautiful_?! What sort of sick bastard does something like that?! And not even owning up to his own madness! That disgusting son of a-!

The pillar suddenly cracked, right next to the murderer's head. It was close enough, and violent enough, that pieces flew and drew blood across Keldar's cheek. Uh oh. "What was that?" Aveline yelped.

"Sorry," I mumbled, closing my eyes to try and calm down. "My fault. Lost my temper some, so my magic went wandering." Father would've been giving me the lecture of a lifetime if he were still alive.

"Is that so?"

"This is one of the reasons why the Circle was imposed. Though, admittedly, most don't have my problem after being properly trained."

"But I thought you _were_ trained? Leandra mentioned how your father made certain that you and Bethany were both taught how to utilize your magic."

"Yeah, but magic is emotionally controlled _and_ I'm a little on the powerful side." Understatement of the year. "I try to keep myself in a good state of mind all the time, so that I don't slip." I obviously needed more training if it slipped so easily. Even if I _was_ fuming.

"And suddenly your infuriating behavior makes sense."

"Infuriating?"

"Back on topic," Isabela demanded. "Can we just kill him now?"

"I wouldn't mind," Aveline agreed. "Some people are just broken."

"Yes, please, kill me!" Keldar exclaimed. "I tried to stop so many times, but I can't! I can't! The demons!"

"The madness," I corrected with a grumble. This was ridiculous.

"So, who gets the shot?" Varric asked as Keldar settled himself.

"I call Hawke," Isabela voted. "I want to see magic on his ass."

"I won't argue," I replied, reaching out a hand. I waited until both Aveline and Varric nodded, though, to begin channeling magic into it.

"Tell my father I'm sorry," Keldar requested. "For everything."

"Sure." I conjured up the water in the air to freeze. "I'll give you a quick death. It's more than you deserve." I ordered the ice to stab… er… to rip him apart… "You know; I'd meant to summon just one icicle, not a Cone of Cold."

"I think we can let it slide this time, Hawke," Aveline reassured. "Let's get moving. I have a few guards to yell at."

"Yeah, yeah." Tomorrow was going to be spent entirely in training. And maybe the day after that too. I shouldn't slip this much, no matter how angry I was.

* * *

"You went against the magistrate?" one of the guards asked as we exited without Keldar. I'd burned the body where it fell. "You'll get in trouble for that."

"Oh, yeah," I began with false brightness. "About that…" I pointed at Aveline. "Hey, do you boys know that she's the Captain of the Guard?"

"…Wha…?"

"Hawke, give me the name of the man when we're all thinking a little clearer," Aveline requested as she glared at all the guards. "He needs to be investigated _immediately_."

"Give me a couple of days, and I'll have you all the information you need," Varric promised. "Shouldn't be hard."

"I suppose I could help out too," Isabela sighed. "That boy was just broken and it wasn't right to hide him."

"Have fun planning and yelling," I told them as I walked off to see Elren and Lia. He was holding his daughter close, but he looked up when I approached.

"You saved her," he breathed. "My little girl… I didn't dare hope…"

"Got very lucky," I pointed out. "I don't think you have to worry about any more victims, either."

"So, he's dead?"

"Well, we could wait for a demon to show up and possess the corpse to kill him again, if you want."

"No, that's fine!" He was smiling. "Thank you."

"But it wasn't Keldar's fault," Lia protested. "It wasn't!"

"Lia, easy."

"He wanted to die, Lia," I explained, keeping myself polite. "He was tired of the demons and refused help." Not that there was any for a _monster_ like that.

"But.." Lia began, before sighing. "Oh…" She ran off, tears in her eyes. That bastard didn't deserve them, but there was no use explaining _that_ to her. Not for a while.

"Lia, wait!" Elren called. "Ah, she didn't even thank you."

"She's a sweet girl," I whispered. "She felt sympathy for that creature. It's what saved her."

"When she's older, however, she'll understand just why you did what you did," he promised. "Until then, thank you. I've never thought an elf could have justice here in Kirkwall. Thank you, for giving me hope."

I lost a peaceful evening, figured out just how weak my control was, and probably caused a bunch of health problems due to suppressed anger today, but _damn_ if it didn't feel good to hear that little bit of praise. To know that I'd helped a person that much... well, the feeling was wonderful, better than any bit of gold or prestige.

Of course, if they knew I was a mage, a blood mage at that, they'd run away screaming, but still. I liked it.

* * *

Author's note – fun fact, I actually wasn't planning to do this quest. Then I got the image of Hawke punching her way through the doors and couldn't resist. Now, I'm glad I did because it brings up something interesting, namely that the whole idea of 'mental disorders' doesn't seem to exist in Thedas. Take the murderer here. If he'd been in our world, he'd likely be tested for schizophrenia (though, for reasons of being fair, most people suffering from mental disorders are more likely to be the TARGET of violence, not the perpetuators, but auditory hallucinations is considered a sign). However, in Thedas, it was just a check for demons and then that's it. Rather interesting.

Technically, the conversation of Aveline and Varric discussing nicknames isn't until Act 2, but I bumped it up earlier for here. (And will likely replace it later with a 'mommy and daddy are too busy' joke or something [seriously Varric and Aveline function like the mom and dad of this group of misfits]).

Hawke's temper? It's heavily implied that Hawke likes children. Even the diplomatic dialogues can sound like Hawke's just barely keeping temper in check. (Isabela liking children is something I'm inferring from her conversation about the slaves she freed, based on tone and sentence structure.) So, this is a taste of what Hawke's like when she's angry. You'll get a bigger taste during a certain quest later in Act 2. More... destructive.

Why didn't the guards know that Aveline was the Captain? Combination of Aveline's reputation getting mildly inflated and them just not realizing that the woman nagging them was the same woman who destroyed Jevan. I have a feeling quite a few nobles are going to get called out by the end of this. Hahaha!

Next Chapter – Long Way Home, where we _finally_ get Merrill (and because I don't want to bore you all with a training chapter). And learn about Hawke's visions, which some of you have been curious about. And how Hawke learns to never have Anders and Fenris near each other, ever.


	13. Chapter 12) Long Way Home

**Kirkwall – Sundermont – 9:31**

_Long Way Home_

* * *

"_Dwarf, you haven't forgotten something, have you?" the Seeker demands after a moment._

"_Hmm?" the dwarf replies, feigning ignorance._

"_The last companion? The amulet the witch gave her?"_

"_The witch never gave that last companion anything."_

"_Dwarf!"_

"_You're starting to sound like Elf." He sighs. "I'm getting to it. In fact, it's the next big thing. Well, after Hawke went to a training session that went on for four days straight, and scared the rest of us, but you aren't interested in that."_

"_...Just get on with it._"

* * *

What in Thedas made me think that _Anders and Fenris_ could be within talking distance of each other and _not _argue? I'd never known two people who were so similar yet so different. Thankfully, I had the sense to not invite Isabela too. As much fun as she could've been, the fact that Aveline had insisted on coming along meant that I would've had to deal with two sets of arguments and I wouldn't have been able to take it.

Aveline glanced at me in concern as if she knew my thoughts had mentioned her. The reason she found about my planned excursion to Sundermont was because she'd been giving me a very long, and intense, lecture about how too much training was worse than too little and, with Varric's help because he happened to be there, managed to trick me into promising to not train without supervision again. Honestly, I didn't know what the problem was. It was only four days. But I knew better than to try and tell her 'no'. I'd just have to figure out loopholes. Fun. Almost as fun as trying to talk peacefully to human hating elves with bows and swords trained on me, which I was doing right now.

"I was told that a Keeper would be here," I repeated for… the twelfth time? Yes, twelfth. Their insistence of being difficult was the reason _why_ Anders and Fenris had time to fight instead of having something to do, like breathe. I'd purposely chosen one of the roughest roads up the mountain within the first five minutes of their snarling about mage liberation and mage captivity. Neither of the two had much stamina, something Aveline scolded them both over with plenty of breath to spare about unstable terrain and the possibility of rockslides.

"Shemlen, your kind are not welcome among the Dalish," one of them sighed. I had to give him credit for not gutting me, considering that was his _thirteenth_ time saying that.

And it was going to become fourteenth because I _had_ to figure out where this 'Keeper' was. "How about I ask this? Do you know where I'd find a Keeper named Marethari?" Had I even used her name before this?

Apparently not, as the elf started. "How do you know that name?"

"A dragon-witch told me?" I tried to keep my voice serious, but it sounded so unbelievable that I wasn't sure the tone would help.

"…I see. You are the one the Keeper spoke of." Come again? "I hadn't expected you to be shemlen."

"Then think of me as a bird. I'm Hawke."

"You claim to be a hawk?"

"It's my name. Althea Hawke." The argument between the mage who couldn't shut up and the elf who couldn't back down grew louder. "Can I come in before I start murdering my friends back there?" Or before Aveline did?

"If you cause trouble, you'll meet both blade and arrow. But Keeper Marethari is waiting for you."

"My thanks." I turned to the other three and waved as one of the elves ran inside the camp, no doubt to inform Marethari that I'd arrived. "We're heading in. Please, behave, okay?"

"We might just need to gag the two of them," Aveline muttered as she came up beside me and Fenris and Anders trailed behind to glare at each other. "It's like they downgraded in maturity."

"Anything useful from it?"

"Nothing except that Keepers use magic."

"Well, that's nice to know." If I used magic on accident, I wasn't going to get killed on sight. Hopefully.

An elven woman stepped in front of me then. Unlike the other elves, who wore some sort of armor, she was dressed in only some simple robes. That, and the staff hooked onto her back, told me she was a magic user. "I knew to expect a bird, but not one I would know as a mage from mere sight," she murmured. "You are quite powerful. No wonder Asha'bellanar grew interested in you." She smiled slightly. "Andaran atish'an. I am Keeper Marethari. You were long in coming."

"Sorry, I got… caught up in the chaos?" I laughed awkwardly.

"This land is harsh. It speaks well that you haven't drowned in it. Let me look at you." She put a hand on my cheek and studied my face closely. "I see truth and character in your eyes, and a weight on your shoulders I would wish on no one. There is also sadness in your smile, and tiredness." There was? Shoot, would have to fix that. "Still, not a person I would expect to meet Asha'bellanar, no matter how interested she may have become."

"Well, when a dragon-woman appears, incinerates some darkspawn, the typical response is to stay and listen to what she has to say."

"I would think it would be to run as if you'd been scorched."

Yeah, if you could out-run a dragon. "Well, the second most typical." I held up the amulet. "I was told to give this to you?"

"Ah, yes. I know this amulet well."

"This is where someone asks the obvious," Aveline sighed, keeping one eye on Fenris and Anders who were muttering at each other. "But first, what do we do if they start fighting?"

"Put them in time-out," I muttered. Aveline laughed. "But, Aveline is right. There is an obvious question here. Is there something special about this amulet? I haven't sensed anything at all."

"It is a promise," Marethari explained. "Made to one whose word stills hold great weight and, thus, great and terrible power." …If I was carrying around the key to the world ending, I was going to scream. "There are few things in this world stronger than a promise kept."

"Right, which means I give this to you and go on my merry way? Except, I doubt it's that easy."

"You are correct. Your part isn't quite over yet." Damn it. "It must be taken to an altar near the summit of this mountain, and given the Dalish rite for the departed." Why? I highly doubt that witch was dead, unless someone took her by surprise. "Once this is done, return the amulet to me and your debt shall be repaid, your promise kept." There was a catch. There had to be a catch. "My First, my apprentice rather, shall go with you to see the ritual is done." Catch coming up in 3… 2… 1… "And, when the rite is over, you shall take her with you, away from the Clan."

Well, there it was. But that was weird. "Any specific reason?"

"Merrill has chosen a new path for herself and, as such, wishes to leave the Clan, as is her right." Marethari didn't sound too happy about that. "Merrill, come hither, please." A small elven girl slowly wandered up, furtively looking at something glowing in her hand. "Merrill."

"Yes?" the girl yelped as she hastily hid whatever she'd been holding in the pouch at her waist. "Oh, is this the bird you spoke of, Keeper? Rather large for a bird. Very pretty, of course."

"I know I made that joke, but I get the feeling you took it a little literally," I commented.

"I'm sorry. Oh, where are my manners? Aneth era…" She trailed off. "Oh, wait, what is your name? Hold on, is it rude to ask a human their name?" …I had a sneaking suspicion that she and Bethany would hit it off well. "I'm Merrill. Of course, I'm sure you knew that, thanks to the Keeper. I'm rambling, sorry."

"Easy there. It's fine." Yeah, she and Bethany would be great friends. Both were adorable. "Just call me 'Hawke'. The armored woman here is Aveline, and the five-year-olds behind me are Fenris and Anders."

"They're rather large to be only five."

"It's an exaggeration. I'm poking fun at them."

"And we're better than five year olds," Anders suddenly piped up with a ridiculous grin. "We haven't gotten to the name-calling and hair-pulling yet."

"Can I kill him?" Fenris asked bluntly. He was scowling as per usual. "Or at least remove his tongue to save ourselves a headache?"

"No," Aveline answered for me. "Just, no."

"Oh, goodness," Merrill breathed. "Um…"

"I promise; it's not this bad all the time," I hastily reassured. Marethari kept quiet, and looked like she was trying to suppress laughter. "So, don't be nervous."

"Oh, I'm not nervous so much about that. I've never met a human before. Dalish mothers tell scary stories to the da'len about you." Huh? "Oh, not about you-you, of course. I'm sure they've no tales about you."

"Give the dwarf two more days, and I'm sure something will come up," Fenris commented.

"Not scary ones, at least. Obviously, you're worthy of stories… I'm just going to shut up now. We should really get going. It's not wise to make Asha'bellanar wait, you-"

"Stupid shemlen!" a young boy suddenly yelled. I turned just in time to duck under a thrown rock. Where had that one come from? "It's your fault!" Another thrown rock hit Aveline's armor. The four of us just stared in confusion. "Your fault that Lyna and Tamlen are gone!" Merrill winced. "Give them back!"

"Da'len, I have told you many a'time," Marethari scolded. Still, her demeanor became heavy with sadness. "Darkspawn are what killed them, not humans. Do not let your anger turn to false accusations."

"Their fault!" This time a pinecone was thrown at my face. Instead of dodging, I just ordered it to combust, which startled the young boy into being quiet. Yay?

As the ashes fell, I sighed and looked right at him. "I don't know who you are even talking about," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I'll take him," an elven woman suddenly said, appearing to snatch up the boy. The boy tried to glare at me, but the woman buried his face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Keeper."

"Do not be," Marethari reassured. As they disappeared, she turned to me. "I'm sorry. The wounds from losing Lyna and Tamlen are still raw and our general caretaker is still getting used to the job. Our old one, Ashalle, chose to stay in Fereldan to help Keeper Lanaya tend to the new homeland, and to tend to the trees that were planted in honor of Lyna and Tamlen."

"So, why are humans to blame?"

"Humans were the ones who told Lyna and Tamlen of the ruins. In those ruins, they met with an artifact that caused them to become Tainted."

Aveline winced and I reached over absently to pat her armor covered shoulder. She was thinking of Wesley. I knew it. "I see. Again, I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's one we shall feel for all time. We were blessed to know them. I should not have been surprised the Creators would fall in love with them too." She shook her head and gestured to Merrill, who'd gone incredibly quiet. "Go with her, please, before the night falls. "

"Of course."

* * *

We were silent during the first small part of the hike up. That is, until Merrill, recovered from the incident with the young boy, started babbling. "Others of the Clan stayed behind, you know," she began. "We would've too, if the Keeper hadn't had business up here with Asha'bellanar."

"That business being me?" I asked.

"Yes. You took a long time to get here. Oh, not that I'm accusing you! Or trying not to accuse you. Um…"

"How much farther?" Anders asked from the back. "Much longer and I'm going to find a stone to roll up the hill so that I can more perfectly symbolize my life."

"I don't think much farther?" Merrill seemed strangely hesistant. "Oh, I hope I haven't gotten lost again."

"There's only one beaten trail up this blasted mountain," Aveline pointed out.

"Well, yes. But I'd see something pretty or interesting, or both, and wander off. I'm trying very hard not to."

"Hawke, maybe you should be up front."

"Play nice," I teased, even as I wondered if I should myself.

"I'm still not used to walking alone," Merrill explained. "Lyna was always the leader. Oh, but I know where I'm going! Mostly."

Time for a subject change, before someone snaps at her. Probably Fenris. "So, as a First, you know magic?"

"Yes. All Keepers possess the old magic. It used to be that all elves had the gift, but, like many things, it was lost." She smiled slightly. "The Hero of Fereldan is said to have awakened to a few of the older abilities."

"Far-Sight being one of them," Anders explained. "That's how we knew Amaranthine was under attack back when I was a Warden. She's also got Living Dreams. I gather they're not nearly as useful as many would think."

"Rarely such curses are," Fenris grumbled.

"It is a gift," Merrill insisted.

"Who would gift something that no one would want?"

"Ah, there you are," a new voice sounded. It seemed like the Dalish took great delight in speaking before being seen. Probably an intimidation tactic. This voice belonged to a man, obviously some sort of hunter. "The Keeper has finally found someone to take you from here?"

"…Yes…" Merril mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Good." The hunter turned to me. "Finish your business quickly and be gone, shemlen." He stormed past us. "We cannot be rid of this one fast enough."

"Isn't Dalish camaraderie lovely?" Anders asked sarcastically as the hunter jogged down the path. What was he even doing up here in the first place? "I'm starting to wonder if Velanna was tame compared to the normal Dalish."

"Who?"

"A Warden harpy whose chip on her shoulder replaced her head."

"Not a friend of yours?"

"Hmm? No, we got along just fine. I really miss her fireballs." I almost called sarcasm, but he _was_ smiling very fondly. "I wonder if she and Nathaniel actually hooked up. Maker, that would be hilariously great."

"Nathaniel?"

"Very good friend, once we hit middle ground. He's the one who made sure a good friend could take care of Ser-Pounce-A-Lot."

"_Who_?"

"My cat."

"You really named your cat Ser-Pounce-A-Lot?"

"He pounced a lot!"

"Did he have a knitted cap?" Merrill asked, face coming back alive with cheerful curiosity. "A sword?"

"What? No," Ander grumbled. "Honestly..."

"Aw… I bet it would've been cute."

"Cats don't generally take well to… well, just about anything. Darkspawn included."

"Wait, did you take him into the Deep Roads?" I had to ask.

"Once or twice, when it was a quick skirmish. He got scared of a genlock and whacked it in the nose. Drew blood, too." He was smiling brightly. "One of his proudest moments. Right up there with Mr. Wiggums getting possessed by a rage demon and killing three templars."

"I don't know if I should be more worried about your cats or your naming abilities."

"Hey!"

"Why was that elf here?" Fenris asked. Good for him to ask the obvious question.

"This marks a fork," Merrill explained, pointing up a path to our right. "Likely, he was here so that I didn't take you the long way through the cave."

"How steep is the cave route?" Aveline asked as she looked up and up at the path. It almost looked like it was going straight up.

"It's much less, but also much longer. There are also poisonous spiders and corpses and shades. The Veil is very thin here, you see."

"What else is new?" I sighed. "Let's get to hiking. At the very least, there won't be arguing." Just a lot of complaining. Oh well. We were almost done with this.

* * *

By the time we reached a flat part of the path, we were incredibly high up and completely out of breath. Even Aveline.

"Never again," Anders gasped out. "I've run through the Deep Roads for days on end, but _that_ was an experience."

"Speaking of experience," Aveline began. "Look down." Merrill was the only one who didn't follow Aveline's suggestion. The camp we'd just been in looked almost like toys from way up here. It was almost enough to make me dizzy.

"If I fall to my death, I'm coming back to haunt you," Fenris grumbled.

"Oh, it's not _that_ high," Anders reassured with false cheer. "You'd only wish you'd die, with all the broken bones."

"Mage, I'm going to rip your throat out one of these days."

"Try it, Elf."

"Behave," I sighed, turning to Merrill, who was waiting patiently outside a barrier of shifting light. "Anything you need?"

"Um… well, firstly, I wish to apologize for my Clan's behavior," she mumbled awkwardly. "You're not really seeing them at their best. With the recent deaths, the sorrow at not being able to immediately settle in the new homeland, and the unexpected deaths of the Halla, they are on edge."

"But they're delightful! I was just thinking about inviting them for tea and cookies!"

"I'm not sure they'd accept… wait, that was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

"That a girl." I smiled. "Don't worry about it. Now, this barrier?"

"Just give me a moment, okay?" Merrill walked to the barrier, pulled out a small knife from her pouch, and cut her hand. I felt a spark of power and found my jaw dropping as the sweet, adorable girl used _blood magic_ to break the barrier.

"That was a summoning," Anders breathed. The other three were staring too. Aveline's was wary, but Anders and Fenris were _furious_. "Are you mad? That's-"

"Blood magic, I know," Merrill interrupted. Well, she was better than me. She was honest. "But I know what I'm doing. The spirit helped us." Demon. The demon that likely tricked and was waiting for payment. I still remembered the desire demon who taught me. I was still waiting for her to come and collect her price.

"You know nothing!" He would've continued but I put a hand on him shoulder to silently tell him to stop.

Fenris had no such qualms. "Don't blame the tiger," he muttered. "It's not its fault when it eats you. What an idiot."

"This whole thing just got a lot worse," Aveline agreed.

Merrill looked at me and I forced myself to smile. Their comments reminded me of how I could _never_ tell them that I, too, was technically a blood mage. "So, are we in the clear?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," she answered, walking around. "In the days of Arlathan, the elders came here to sleep. Uthenara, the endless dream." She glanced back at me. "But they don't sleep so peacefully anymore."

"How _brilliant_ the ancients elves were," Fenris grumbled.

"Yes, I'm not quite sure what my ancestors were thinking."

"Likely, the Veil wasn't all that thin back then," I murmured, glancing up at the sky. An eagle was flying about. How strange, yet how fitting. "Or maybe they had a way that was safe. Who can say?"

"Perhaps." She smiled sweetly at me. "I'll go and make sure everything is ready on the altar."

As she skipped and tripped away, Aveline came up beside me. "Are we trusting her?" she asked.

"Do not fear the weapon, but the person who wields it," I whispered in reply. Father had told me that, once I became a blood mage. "To think of a demon as a simple spirit, however, is underestimating it." Not that there was a 'good spirit' according to Father. "We'll watch her. She seems aware of the dangers to herself, but doesn't even realize that the dangers won't stop with her."

"Nothing good comes from blood magic," Fenris spat.

"No, it doesn't." No, nothing good at all. But there was no way for me to take a different path, and no way for her either. Once you became a blood mage, there was no way to _not_ be a blood mage. You could only avoid temptation.

"Ah, right…" He looked almost uncomfortable at me agreeing with him so easily.

"See, not all mages are magisters," Anders taunted.

"Perhaps."

I walked ahead to run away from the guilt. It was just in time as Merrill was on her way back. "Oh, hello!" she greeted. "Everything is set."

"So, shall we go?"

"Yes, but… but just you and me." She glanced hesitantly at the others. "I do not know if Asha'bellanar will allow others near, and it is not wise to test or anger her."

"Who exactly are we meeting up here, Hawke?" Anders asked at last. "I've been curious the whole time. I've heard 'Asha'bellanar' before, but only in Finn's rambles about languages."

"The Witch of the Wilds," Aveline grumbled.

"…Well, this adventure just got ten times scarier. Commander and Serenity told me the stories. I'm going to accept that invitation to hide back here. Perhaps behind one of these gravestone things? I'd prefer the undead."

"What is a 'Witch of the Wilds'?" Fenris asked. "That term wasn't in Tevinter."

"Was Flemeth?"

"Never mind. Hawke, what are you doing associating with something like her?"

"She saved us from being devoured by darkspawn in Lothering," I replied tartly. "Any other accusations or can I go repay my debt?"

I actually didn't wait for an answer, but turned on my heel and followed Merrill up to a small altar located at the edge of a cliff. It wasn't the highest point of the mountain, but, since the top was surrounded by oddly shaped rocks, it was the most open and the view was _spectacular_.

"Please, set the amulet on the altar," Merrill requested solemnly. "It is time to begin."

"Right," I whispered, still entranced. Was this what birds saw when they flew? Even Kirkwall looked beautiful from up here. "Right."

I set the amulet on the altar and took a step back as Merrill used magic to light the stone jug in the center of it. It burned with a blue-green flame and popped once as Merrill dropped the amulet into it. "Hahren na malana sahlin," she sang. The words themselves brimmed with power, and sounded so very old. "Emma ir abelas souver'inan isala hamin vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenera na revas."

I drew my sword as the sky suddenly darkened and motes of fiery-gold light swirled and gathered above the altar. They took on the shape of dragon wings, wrapped around something tight as if in protection. Soon, the wings took shape into a woman I recognized very well. "Ah…" Flemeth breathed, slowly stretching. She looked exactly the same as she did back on the outskirts of Lothering. "And here we are."

"Andaran atish'an, Aha'bellanar," Merril greeted, bowing formally.

"One of the people, hmm? So young and bright, you are. Child, do you know who I am, beyond that title?" If I wasn't convinced there was more to her than what met the eye before, I surely was now.

"Only a little."

"Then stand." She gently touched Merrill's face to further her point. "The people bend their knee too quickly." As Merrill stood up, Flemeth turned to face me. I kept my sword out, just in case, but made sure it was at my side so as not to appear as if I planned on suiciding on her. "It's so refreshing, so see someone keep their end of a bargain. I half-expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket."

"No one wanted to buy it," I instantly retorted. "Probably because of the witch inside."

She smiled. "Just a piece. A very small piece. It was all I needed. A bit of security, should I misjudge the timing of a Queen's promotion. Which I might have. Morrigan certainly chose a good woman to find protection under."

"Who?"

"Oh, my scheming daughter. Pay her no heed for now. If your paths cross, it shall be but briefly. She has other things to worry about."

"Right…" Was that 'daughter' or 'enemy'? "And, uh… are you a vision or something? What happens if you didn't misjudge?"

"Must I only be in one place at one time?" she laughed. "Bodies are such limiting things." Yeah, she's not normal. "I am but a fragment cast adrift from the whole. A bit of flotsam waiting in the storm."

"Fragment?"

"Worry not child. There is no reason to understand." She leaned forward and caressed my cheek. "Know only that you may have saved my life, just as I did yours. Just a simple bit of magic, really."

I opened my mouth to retort, but then I blinked and everything was dark. Fire was being flung into a distant castle, a woman with short hair was ordering a charge, and… and up above, the Veil which protected us from the Fade was ripped apart. Demons descended with vicious cries. Rage, desire, pride, and others I had no name for. And a dragon, a high dragon, roaring triumphantly as the chaos tore apart the land.

I stumbled back, shaking the… the whatever out of my head, to get myself back in the present. What in the Void? That was… I hadn't had one since Karl died (right, needed to talk to Varric about that). What was…? That was even weirder than that dream I had months ago about a wolf commander and a dragon queen!

"Ah, so you _did_ inherit part of the Amell magic," Flemeth murmured. "And here I thought the hawk slaughtered all the eagle's power. You just keep getting more interesting. A fitting choice, Thedas made, to name you 'Champion'."

"What did you do?" I demanded. I was getting annoyed. I'd _never_ had this problem back in Fereldan!

"I did nothing. That is your own power." Her smile wasn't all that kind. "The Amells… do you know what the name means?" She didn't even wait for me to answer. "'Power of the Eagle'. That isn't just some arbitrary name, my dear. Mages have been in your family for quite some time." She pointed up, to the eagle still flying about. "The eagle soars upon high, close to the heavens, and sees everything. Power of the Eagle refers to the power to see things others cannot, namely the future."

"No, that was just a waking nightmare."

"It was indeed, and soon it shall be a living one." No. I _refused_ to believe it. "It's an ability almost all Amell mages have, though many don't realize nowadays due to how young they show their talent and how quickly they're put into Circles with thinned Veils. After all, when you always have strange nightmares, why pay attention? That might change, though, since that sweet Amell in Fereldan is no longer confined." Who? "When you next get a chance, why not as your sweet little sister if she's had some strange dreams lately? I'm sure she'll prove my point."

"You have plans, I take it?" My voice sounding strangled as I tried to keep myself polite and also tried to speed up her departure. I half wanted to attack her, certain she was _somehow_ involved in whatever I'd just seen. But, even if she hadn't helped my family, I knew fighting this woman was only inviting death.

"Yes, destiny awaits us both. We have much to do." She laughed softly. "It's amazing how a simple decision can open the doors of fate."

"Fate is just an excuse for the dead," I retorted, bristling. She was freaking me out. "I make my own path. My choices are my own. If I fail, it's because I wasn't good enough, not because of some whimsical _thing_ dictated that I couldn't. I _refuse_ to believe in destiny or fate."

"Thinking that way is the path for a great deal of pain," she noted. "But, then again, you are one who finds power and strength in sacrifice. A shame there are not more like you at the moment. But, you shall create a miracle here that would not be there otherwise. I can see this." She came close to whisper in my ear. "You'll have to fight to the end, no matter what tragedy befalls you."

"Did you have to say 'tragedy'?" I complained as she pulled away. "Why can't I get anything for free?"

"What costs nothing is also worth nothing." She smiled like a wolf. Or a dragon. "Remember that, little bird."

"Don't call me that!" That name… only… "You're not my father."

"No, and neither are you. Chain yourself to his shadow and you shall remain trapped with your broken wings even once you are freed from your confines by tragedy. Show the world what you're made of. Set yourself free of the cage and embrace your true role with unfurled wings. You're going to change the face of Thedas forever. It's just a question of _how_."

"What are you talking about?" I… I didn't chain… and I was… I wasn't caged… I wasn't caged at all. No, of course not.

She chuckled as if she knew my shaken thoughts and turned away. "We stand on the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment. When it comes, do not hesitate to leap." She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Only by falling do you truly learn that you can _fly_."

"Cheap advice from a dragon," I felt the need to point out.

She smiled at that. "We all have our difficulties, little hawk." She glanced at Merrill. "As for you, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are closed shut from the dangers around you."

"Ma serannes, Asha'bellanar," Merrill murmured. She kept glancing at me in curiosity.

"And now, it is time for me to leave." She returned her attention to me, even as she stepped towards the edge. "You have my thanks for what you have done, and my sympathy for what is to come."

She leapt off the cliff and instantly shifted into a dragon. As she disappeared into the distance, Merrill gently touched my arm. "I have never heard of someone talking to Asha'bellanar as you did and live," she informed me. "She must like you."

"I get the feeling she only likes those she can play with," I muttered. And I, apparently, was the current 'piece' she was moving about in whatever plan she had. "Let's get going. Are you packed?"

"Ah, yes? Mostly. Okay, not at all, but…!"

I found myself smiling. "Okay, let's get you packed." And maybe avoid Anders and Fenris chewing her out? Maybe?

* * *

Once back in the city, Anders retreated to Darktown. He claimed to be checking for emergencies, but I was certain it was also to get away from Fenris. Fenris, while relieved Anders was gone, kept giving me furtive glances, as if trying to decide if I was an enemy or not. Aveline, for her part, vocally expressed her relief that our business with Flemeth was over, even as we hunted for an open place in the Alienage. All three of them, though, had ignored Merrill as she trailed behind with a small bag of stuff. Other things would be sent later, larger things we couldn't carry so easily. I wasn't sure if that approach was better than them yelling. At least yelling acknowledged she existed...

"This place is a lot more cheerful when people are around," I noted as we finally found one small place in a corner. Thoughts like that weren't very productive and, likely, had lengthened the quest to find Merrill a home.

"I liked the quiet," Fenris commented.

"And the slavers?"

"They were good to vent anger on."

"Elgar nan," Merrill breathed, ignoring us as she _really_ studied her new home. "Is this really where the elves live?"

"We could take you to Darktown, if you'd like," Aveline suggested with just a touch of teasing. Good. That was... that was good. The teasing, I mean. "I'm not sure you'd like it, though."

"No, thank you. I just didn't think it would be so… so…" Horrible? The place wasn't exactly the prettiest of Kirkwall. "Oh, not that I'm not grateful!" She immediately rounded on me and bowed. "I am, so much so! Especially since you spent all this time helping me find a place to sleep!"

"I imagine it's a bit of a shock," I replied softly. "Your Clan didn't look all that big."

"It used to be bigger, like I said. But never this big." She smiled shyly as she straightened out of her bow. "Um… will you come visit me? Not now, of course. But later? From time to time? Please?"

"Of course, silly," I laughed. "Don't worry so much. Here, let's get your stuff inside, okay? And there was that second batch the Keeper was sending, right? That we couldn't carry? I'll be back then, too. Don't frown so much. You'll never be alone here. Remember that, Merrill."

"Ma serranes! Oh, I'm thanking you too much, aren't I? I mean it, though. Thank you, Hawke."

* * *

Author's note: Well, here we go. Last companion quest. (Feels rushed in places, but I also don't feel like working on it anymore.) Hiya, Flemeth with your epic foreshadowing of doom. Which I added onto thanks to inquisition trailer. Hahaha! Well, here's also your explanation for the visions. Hawke only got a small part of it, which is why hers are sporadic. As for other Amells? Well, you'll see.

…Okay, fine, yes, Bethany does. This is my explanation for why Bethany is extra sensitive to the Warden dreams (game implies that Bethany needs to only close her eyes to hear them). I added it for Hawke when I realized it would let be use the vague trailer stuff without much contradictions. (Future is ever changing, after all~)

…I have Anders run back to his infirmary a lot (at least it feels that way). But it just makes sense to me that, when back in the city, the first place he goes is his clinic to make sure there were no emergencies while he was adventuring with Hawke. Oh well.

Fenris and Anders are essentially the same, but one is violently anti-mage and the other is violently pro-mage. Yeah, fun times… Had the others stay back because… because. They'd just be standing around anyway. The only thing we get is that not even Fenris (who grew up in Tevinter surrounded by magic) and Anders (who shares a mind with a Spirit who is FREAKING OLD) don't know what the hell Flemeth is and that's… not all that important for hawke's story.

Oh, the bit about Fenris not having stamina is just a joke on how many of the people I've talked to boost his strength and constitution up during level ups to get high level weapons sooner and forgetting about his stamina until the endgame. (He does have a skill that restores stamina upon killing an enemy, but that's at level fifteen which, in my head, the group doesn't reach until somewhere in Act 2. …Okay, yes, there's battlemaster, but that requires training, which Aveline shall helpfully provide, whether Fenris likes it or not!)

Lyna is the default name of the female Dalish Warden. Tamlen and Ashalle are NPCs who feature in Origins, but not in DA2. Finn is a character from Witch Hunt. Threw in some other references to Origins here, particularly the Return to Ostagar chapter of Wardens' Tale. Continuity~

Next Chapter – Wayward Son, where we meet one of the most interesting NPCs (imo)


	14. Chapter 13) Wayward Son

**Kirkwall – Lowtown, Gallows, and Wounded Coast – 9:31**

_Wayward Son_

* * *

"_So, Flemeth just left?" the Seeker asks, confused. "And just what was she talking about? All of those… hints? Warnings?"_

"_Well, how am I supposed to know? That's just what I heard," the dwarf replies with an awkward laugh. "I don't have _all_ the answers."_

"_Right, because you weren't there. I'd been wondering. How _do_ you know of these things?"_

"_You really think they didn't talk? Also, Hawke kept a journal."_

"_You read her journal?"_

"_Moving on."_

* * *

I saw Merrill again a few days later, when the Dalish sent the last of her things. A few ornaments, some wooden cups and plates, a couple of sets of flowers, a beautiful sketch of three people (Merrill with a boy and girl around her age), and this oddly broken mirror that made my skin crawl. Merrill offered no explanation about it, and I didn't ask. I was a little afraid to find out.

"Ma serranes!" Merrill giggled as we finished wrestling the thing into the corner. "Would you like something to drink? I have… water, I think."

"Water would be great," I told her with a smile.

"Really? Oh, good." She began frantically gathering up her cups and tripping to fill them with water.

"Merrill, relax." I took a seat at the lone table in her home. "I came to help you out, not for you to fuss."

"You're so kind." She came to the table with the water with a small smile. "My first guest and already I'm a terrible host."

"I wouldn't call you terrible. Just new." I pointed to the other chair here. "Sit down and relax. We didn't drag that thing in here just to look pretty."

"True." She giggled as she took the chair. "I wanted to thank you for helping me, but I'm making a bit of a mess of it."

Thank me for bringing her to the Alienage? Okay, then. "You're welcome. It's sweet of you to say so."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. If wishes were enough, I'm sure everyone in Thedas would be happy." She got a thoughtful look as I wondered what wishes had anything to do with what I said. "Oh, but I suppose some wishes would conflict with each other, wouldn't they? Like if one person wished for prices to go down while another wished for them to go up?" Little things like this were good to remind me that while she was naïve, she wasn't exactly stupid. "But I'm rambling again. Sorry. I haven't had many friends, not even among my own clan. This is tricky."

"No friends?" She was sweet, though. Why wouldn't she have had more friends before turning to blood magic?

"As the First to the Keeper, I was… isolated." She twisted her cup in her hands. "As I studied magic and history, the others my age were learning the Vir Tanadhal." The what? "And I was always shy, so I've never been good with people. I would've been a terrible Keeper, especially since Lyna's… gone."

"Lyna?" That was one of the Dalish that passed on recently, according to Marethari.

"She was my best friend." Oh. Yikes. "The only daughter of the Keeper before Marethari, she was bright and strong. One of the best hunters of all the Dalish, she was also one of the kindest and prettiest. She never cared about my quirks, but taught me to laugh at them." Merrill smiled sadly. "I miss her. I miss Tamlen. But they're both not there, so the Clan no longer feels like home."

"Well, you've a home here," I told her. "And you already have me as a friend. It won't be long before you've charmed others."

"You think so?" She smiled warmly. "Thank you. I hope so."

"I _know_ so." While I knew to keep her _far_ away from Fenris and Anders, I could probably introduce her to the others. Might need to be careful with Carver. He'd either hate her completely… or become absolutely infatuated. "Anyway, was there any place you wanted to go? I'll have to show you the Hanged Man, and where I live, but anywhere-?"

I was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Um… come in?" Merrill called, a little hesitantly.

"Sorry to bother you," Aveline said as she entered. As usual, she was in full guard armor. When did Aveline rest again? "Hawke, there's a bit of commotion out here."

"Need me to play guard?" I asked.

"Perhaps. There's an apostate about." Whoo boy.

"Oh, are you going to help them?" Merrill asked cheerily.

"So long as they're not causing bad trouble," I mumbled, standing. "Aveline, aren't you supposed to…?"

"I haven't seen anything and if there's one thing I've learned from you, Bethany, and even that Anders, it's that some mages can do quite a bit of good outside of the Circle," she replied. I felt myself flush at that praise, though part of me wondered if Anders had made her mad recently. "Now, come on. Let's see what we can find out, yes?"

"Sure." I smiled at Merrill. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Certainly. Well, hopefully after I clean a little more," Merrill replied. "I'll have it… um… what's that phrase? Whistle? Clean as a whistle?"

"Yep."

"I'll have it clean as a whistle before you know it!"

"Hard to believe she's a blood mage," Aveline noted as I joined her in the doorway and Merrill went bustling about her little abode. "Yet she is one. That's dangerous."

"That sweetness might actually protect her, so let's just play nice and see what happens," I whispered. "So, is the commotion close or far?"

"It's right there." She pointed to the tree in the center of the Alienage. Well, that was close. "The apostate in question is half-elf, half-human."

"Odd combination."

"Dalish woman, Antivan merchant. She's been raising him here. No one suspected anything until the templars came."

"Well, damn." I walked around the tree to see a templar and a woman talking. "Eavesdrop or jump in?"

"Do whatever. I'm waiting right here."

"Why leave it to me?"

"There's been no official request, so they won't take kindly unless there's a third party involved. So, it's whatever you decide."

"Gee, thanks." Suppressing a sigh, I carefully crept closer, not wanting to distract either of them. Maybe I could figure out just what was going on through 'convenient hearing', as Varric called it.

"Please, Ser Thrask," the woman was begging. "He won't go willingly, but it's the only place…"

"We are doing our best to find your son," the templar replied softly. "But I cannot guarantee his safety if he continues to resist us."

"He's just a boy!" So, we had a child involved?

"He's an apostate." Despite the words, the tone was gentle, as if he _was_ actually thinking about that apostate as just a scared little boy. "The only way I can guarantee mercy is if he comes willingly."

"I'm trying to find him, but… but…"

"The templars cannot tolerate apostates." And the templar didn't notice there was one just a short distance away. Of course. "I'm sorry." The templar walked away and the woman began quietly sobbing in the middle of the Alienage. Absolutely no one made an effort to help her. In fact, they seemed to avoid her.

So, I took that as an opportunity to approach her and figure out what exactly was going on. "Forgive me, but I couldn't help but overhear," I whispered, gently touching the woman's shoulder to better catch her attention. "It sounds like your son is in trouble? Might I be of some assistance?"

"You would help?" she asked, shocked. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Arianni. My son, Feynriel, is… is a mage." Got that part already. "He manifested young, but he was so scared to go to the Circle. I kept him safe with me." Well, didn't this sound familiar? "But, lately, it seems as if his magic has gotten out of control. He's been haunted by terrible dreams of demons trying to drag him to the Fade. It grows harder and harder to wake him." She choked on a sob and I patted her shoulder again. "It was hard, but I contacted the templars. I'd rather lose him to the Circle than demons. I can't protect him from _them_."

I wouldn't lie and say that part of me wasn't outraged, but who was I to judge? I'd had Father to train and protect me and to serve as my ideal of strength and wisdom. It sounded like Feynriel had only his mother, and non-mages couldn't fight demons very well. "I'm guessing he didn't take well to the idea?"

"He thought I betrayed him. I guess, in a way, I did." She covered her mouth in an attempt to keep the tears in and I pretended not to see the few that slipped out. "He ran. Ser Thrask looks for him, but I'm so scared. Not all templars are kind. Ser Thrask is, because his own daughter is a mage, but others… the tales that I hear… I worry about what will happen if someone else finds him."

"Why don't I look for him?" I suggested. I glanced over my shoulder at Aveline in the distance, who merely waved. Whatever I chose, huh. Bullshit, she knew from the beginning. Ah, well. She got her third party. "Perhaps he won't hide from me."

"That would be wonderful." Her smile was sweet, if tired, even with the tears. "Thank you, so much. It has been a lonely time."

…Was Mother lonely because of it? No, surely not. …Right?

* * *

"This place looks just as inviting as it did last year," I muttered as Aveline and I walked into the courtyard of the Gallows. "Not one bit."

"Don't worry, Hawke," Aveline replied. "I'll guard you."

"Yeah, but it'll be better to not catch attention in the first place."

"Good luck on that one, Hawke."

"I'm doing okay, aren't I?"

"You've got _nobles_ gossiping about you." Oh, freaking flames. What did I do to deserve _that_? "Looks like there's our templar there."

"Joy and wonder." As nonchalantly as possible, I walked over to the red-haired templar from earlier who was trying to rest in the shadows of one of the statues. "Are you Ser Thrask?" I asked him politely, even though I already knew that. "I've heard you're seeking Feynriel?"

"I hadn't realized his name was so far spoken," Ser Thrask answered tactfully. "But yes, I am he, and that is my current duty. You are?"

"I'm called Hawke."

"I've heard of you. You're making quite the name for yourself here in Kirkwall." Damn it, Aveline was right. "But why are you here?"

"Well, I offered to assist Arianni in finding him."

"As appreciated, and surprising, as that is, this matter is a templar matter, not civilian." Yeah, I'd only met one templar I'd be willing to trust, and he was nothing more than ashes back in Lothering now. "As such-"

"As such, the city is in trouble," Aveline cut in, stepping forward. "My husband was a templar. I've heard the stories of how much trouble a child mage can get into, and cause in his fear."

"That is… unusual."

"Not very. The Grand Cleric liked Wesley, and I had my own means of income as a soldier. We were both aware that our duties would keep us apart, but that was something we were willing to work through." …Oh, Aveline… "We were happy, until the Blight took him."

"My apologies for your loss. He must've been a good man."

"Yes, but that is another topic, for another time. I am here now, as the Guard-Captain, and, as I've stated, the city is in danger. Allow Hawke and me to assist. The boy won't know to hide from us. We're not wearing templar armor."

"Have you been talking to Varric about getting tips for persuasive arguments?" I asked as Thrask thought through what Aveline had said.

"Oh, I might've gotten a few tips. He _can_ be a good resource, when he isn't being an uncooperative smartass."

"He's always a smartass, though."

"Yes, but sometimes he can be a cooperative one." Got me there.

"I've heard good things of you both," Thrask suddenly murmured. He nodded to his own thoughts. "Give me a moment to collect what information we've discovered. It isn't much, but it's right to give. I thank you for the help."

Right, so wait around in the templar infested courtyard. That was definitely a good idea. "Aveline, I'm going to sit in some shade," I told her as Thrask walked away. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"I'll talk and see what else I can figure out," she replied. "This shouldn't be long."

"Hopefully." Waving a farewell, I walked over to one of the little alcoves in the courtyard and leaned against the wall. It was quiet, so I'd be able to hear just about any-

"You said you were called 'Hawke'?" I turned at the kind, yet weary, voice to see an older mage smiling. "Strange, indeed. You see; I once knew a Hawke myself. He had your hair, your eyes, and even your face, though I think yours is softer than his." He glanced around and leaned in closer. "You must be Malcolm's eldest."

"And if I am?" I asked warily. I was good at hiding, but if someone went around 'reminding' some of the older templars that Malcolm Hawke, their long escaped apostate, had some kids around, there was a good chance that they'd start investigating more heavily and catch Bethany and me. That couldn't be afforded until we had enough to bribe our protection.

"I am Tobrius. I had the honor of befriending your father during the short time he was here. He was a good man. I remembered him well." Father, as always, made an impression. It's been twenty-five years since he and Mother eloped out of Kirkwall. "Well, I needn't tell you about how special he was. It pained me to send him word of the templar's death. That was the last I'd heard from him. His wife sent a message two years later letting me know of his passing."

Templar? "Who are you talking about?"

"Malcolm had made many friends, and even more admirers. Even the current First Enchanter, Orsino, had been in awe of him. Should it really be a surprise that he managed to befriend a templar?" Considering that most were utter jackasses? Wesley hadn't been, and maybe Thrask wasn't, but two exceptions weren't really enough to counteract all of them. "'Rule is not served by caging the best of us', he'd said when he looked the other way and allowed Malcolm to escape." …Oh, now I knew who he was talking about. Father hadn't mentioned Maurevar had been a templar. "He was a wise man. Of course, this was before Meredith took command, when the rules could be interpreted to fit the situation. She has turned the order inflexible, and tries to strangle us." He sighed, but shook his head. "Not that Orsino helps at all. They are good at their jobs, but they're poor matches for each other. But that isn't a topic to bore you with. I have kept many of the letters I was asked to ferry, uncertain as to whether or not Malcolm would want them returned. Wait a moment, and I shall give them to you. They should be with the family."

"My thanks."

"No need." He smiled sadly. "Few like those two remain. I pray that both Malcolm Hawke and Ser Maurevar Carver rest well at the Maker's side." …_Carver?!_

"Hawke, is everything all right?" Aveline asked as Tobrius walked away.

"Yeah," I answered, still stunned as I realized just why Father had been so insistent on naming Carver. "He just has something my father left when he ran from the Gallows."

"Your father was here?"

"Have you not heard the story of the renegade apostate who ran off with the Amell princess?" I'd nearly choked the first time I'd heard someone spin that tale in the Hanged Man. _Completely off_ was an understatement.

"Yes, but I didn't realize he'd escaped the _Gallows_. How?"

"Eh, that changed every time he told the story." Actually, not really, but I didn't feel like telling Aveline that there were underground passages here to Darktown in a courtyard filled with templars.

"Sounds like Varric."

"You know; I think they would've gotten along well. Anyway, think we can figure out a reason to stay a while besides the waiting for information?" It probably wasn't wise, but I did want those letters. I wanted to show them to Carver. Oh, there was that portrait I wanted to show Bethany. Was that still in my pack? No, it was somewhere in my room. I'd thrown it there.

"Well, we both need new blades, and I owe you a birthday present, I think."

"Huh? No, you don't?"

"Leandra mentioned your birthday was coming up when I was looking for you earlier."

"I'm more or less certain that's in two months."

"Hawke, just let me buy you a damn sword."

"Yes, Daddy."

"And that is going to get you a sparring session." Yeah, but it had been worth the look on her face.

* * *

Aveline, upon looking through the information Thrask gave us, decided to check out some place on the docks. Apparently, an ex-templar named Samson directed some running apostates to a ship that was _supposed_ to take them away to freedom. He'd revealed to his old friend Thrask, though, that he'd been hearing some dark rumors about slaving. Since there was the potential slaver involved, I insisted on grabbing Fenris and Aveline and I both decided to drag Carver with us, because he was doing nothing but being surly.

"I wasn't being surly!" Carver grumbled as we made our way to the warehouse in the docks. "I was resting in between jobs. Sister isn't the only one working, you know."

"I'd hope not," I sighed. "I'd hate to think that you and Bethany don't have lives outside of me."

"Well… good." What a witty comeback, Carver. "So, where are we going again?"

"A warehouse in the docks," Aveline answered. "According to that Samson, the plan was to smuggle the kid out of Kirkwall, but he's heard some bad rumors and is worried about the child's safety."

"About slavers," Fenris muttered darkly. It had taken just us mentioning they _might_ be involved to get him out of that cold house. We'd need to work on that anger of his.

"Yep, so we're heading there, likely into a trap, to see what we can find out," I added. "Aveline, there was a mention of another mage, right?"

"Yes, a young girl by the name of Olivia. She's the one who disappeared mysteriously, and prompted Samson to look a little more closely into his friend's background," Aveline confirmed.

"Why couldn't he help more directly?" Carver grumbled.

"He's a former templar who's completely addicted to lyrium. What do you think, Carver?"

"Money. Of course. Nothing gets done in Kirkwall unless you have it."

"Unless you happen to be a certain mage with white hair who seems to have a fixation for doing good here." Fixation? "Remind me, Hawke, to make sure you get compensation for helping the Templars and Guards."

"I'm helping Arianni," I protested. "Her and you. Not them. I don't want _their_ money."

"Money's money," Carver pointed out. "Of course, I'd rather not get involved with stupid templars, but I'd gladly take their coin. We can use it to bribe."

"Something's wrong when _you're_ being reasonable."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're here," Fenris noted as we came upon one of the numerous warehouses in the docks. "So stop arguing."

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"No one is yelling at anyone," Aveline sighed. "Shall we head inside?"

My answer was carefully opening the door and leading the way inside. I should've probably had Varric or Isabela here, as they were likely very used to walking quietly. And looking for traps.

"Voices up ahead," Fenris whispered. "What shall we do?"

"Eavesdrop until we get more information," I answered. "We're not jumping in without knowing what's going on."

Aveline nodded in agreement. "Surround the door," she ordered. "Carver and I will take one side. Fenris, you and Hawke on the other."

Carver grumbled a little at being ordered, but it wasn't long before we were set up on either sides of the door, listening in on the conversation with the smugglers in the next room. I couldn't say I liked what I heard, or saw when I carefully peeked around the doorframe.

"Get a hold of her!" one of them yelled as they cornered a small, frail looking girl still dressed in circle robes. "And make sure to get her hands! I've heard mages can't do their magic without their hands!"

"Please," the girl whispered. Her face was as blank as stone. "Help me. Anyone."

I frowned at the girl's voice. It was forced and faked, like the girl was merely feigning emotions. It took me two seconds to realize why. "She's an abomination," I hissed.

"What makes you say that?" Carver asked. Two seconds later, the mage twisted into a bulging mass of magic and flesh that vaguely resembled a human. "Before that, I mean."

"Most abominations don't know how to emote."

"Certain annoying mage healer who can't shut up being an exception?"

"That's actually some differing circumstances, but yeah."

"Good to know," Aveline muttered. "I tried asking Anders, but he just insulted me."

"Why did you think that was a good idea?"

"Just keep him away from me for a bit. He brought up Wesley in retaliation."

"What? Don't want to see me yell at him for that?" As much as I liked Anders, I would forever defend Aveline on the subject of Wesley.

"On second thought, let me watch."

"Can the rest of us?" Fenris asked. "Should be entertaining. And are we going to kill the slavers or watch the abomination do it?"

"I'm sure you'll want to save yourself for their leader, right?" I asked sweetly. He merely grunted in reply. "Kidding, kidding. I think we've figured out what we need. Let's mercy kill the girl and slaughter the others." I drew my sword. "To arms?"

"Yeah, we all have two arms, Sister?" Carver joked. "So do they."

"I'm _not_ acknowledging that pun, you dork."

"Why are we just talking?!" Fenris growled, jumping into the room to start tearing into the smugglers. Anger issues. Needed to work on them.

"Fenris, your form needs some work!" Aveline scolded as she went to join him in the fighting. "You're leaving yourself too open!"

"Of course she's scolding," Carver sighed. "She was just on me a few days ago!"

"Best way to get her to stop is to listen," I pointed out. He glared at me, but I just smiled in reply and slipped through the fighting to get to the abomination. It wasn't hard. She'd come after me for some reason.

Her immediate reaction was to scream and attack me with brute force for some strange reason. I stumbled back as she scored a good hit to my neck. I would _really_ have to start studying the Arcane branch of magic to get some good shields. Or figure out how that Rock Armor spell worked.

"You know nothing of magic!" the abomination screeched as it came up again with bloodied claws. Fire licked at its hands, ready to cast a spell. Fire in a wooden building? Well, no time for swordwork then.

"My apologies, but I know more than you think," I whispered as I conjured up some lightning in my palm. Right before she got me a second time, I grabbed her by the neck (the closest point to my chagrin) and released a stream of electricity into her. Even as she flailed to strike me, I held on until she stopped moving.

"All dead," Fenris noted as I let go and the abomination hit the floor. Her head stunk of burnt flesh and made me nauseous. "Now what?"

"Search the bodies for clues," I ordered, casting a healing spell on everyone before turning my attention to my own wounds. Nothing bad, thank the Maker. "Try to be polite, though. Corpses deserve some amount of respect."

"Right, 'sorry for hunting through your clothes'," Carver mocked.

"If it was you, wouldn't you like to be treated with respect?" He had no answer to that. "Thought so."

Wounds healed and nausea in check, I knelt beside the abomination and tried to find anything that could tell me about her. I noticed that, even though she'd transformed, some deep-set scars and bruises riddled her arms, chest, and abdomen. She'd been heavily abused. Was that why she'd been driven desperate enough to turn into an abomination? Father had always warned that the want for vengeance would lead all mages down the path of blood magic, and likely ruin as they'd have far too much emotion to control the power properly. I couldn't deny that. While I'd taken blood magic for technically a different reason, I _had_ used it to exact vengeance in the end. That was why I'd thought that I had to…

"Found a note about giving a mage boy to a Danzig in the mines," Aveline called, drawing me out of that memory. "We need to hurry. Sun's going to set soon." And if we were trapped by the curfew…

Despite that growing lack of time, I hunted through a small pack that had somehow managed to survive the girl's transformation to see what I could find. There were only a handful of things in it, one of which being a letter addressed to Ser Thrask. It wasn't sealed, so I took a quick peak. The first line including the word 'Father', however, so I quickly tucked it into my own pouch for a later delivery.

"So, where to now?" Carver asked as he bounded up. He was grinning like we were at a harvest festival. What got him so happy all of a sudden? "There are more of these slavers, right?"

"Yeah, but what we'll do will depend on Aveline, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. So?"

"Didn't you hear Aveline? To Darktown. That's the only place with mines."

"Of course. Where _else_ would criminals like slavers go?"

"The Void?"

"I love it when we agree, Sister." Yeah, so did I. You weren't an ass then.

* * *

"Why do criminals always run down here?" Fenris asked as we quickly made our way through the little groups of the homeless in the mines. It saddened me that so many of them were Fereldans and I longed to help them out. But I needed all the money I could get now. Maybe afterwards? Yes, afterwards. "It's bound to be boring for the Guard, yes?"

"You don't know the half of it," Aveline sighed as she made sure none of us stepped in a puddle of… well, I hoped it was just mud. "I'd been tempted to just park some here, except they'd get the criminals who are doing more good than harm too."

"There are criminals like that?"

"Well, technically speaking, Anders is a criminal. Yet to take him in would result in hundreds of refugees dying because no one else will take care of them."

"Right, because someone like an abom-"

I put a hand over his mouth. "Say things like that, and we're _all _dead," I warned him. "The Templars aren't known for mercy around here, you know."

He only replied when I took my hand away. "That's because mercy leads to the Imperium."

"Fenris, be honest, do I seem like someone who'd be a magister?" There was no reply. "Fenris?"

"Not the kind I know," he finally muttered. "Not the kind I used to see everyday of my life and once thought nothing of serving."

…Honestly, I was expecting him to say 'yes' just because I had magic. "Thank you. But what do you mean, 'kind that you know'?"

"I can see you in authority, but not as the ones I've seen." Eh?! Whoa, no! I didn't want that! I just wanted to take care of my family!

"Just what Sister needs!" Carver commented. I was trying to figure out if he was being sincere or mocking. I suspected the latter. "A throne!"

"Then you can play the man behind the throne, right?" I had to add with a sigh.

"Did Varric tell you about that?"

"Did Varric tell me about what?"

"Never mind."

"I see them," Aveline called. She pointed to an out of the way section of Darktown. "No way to sneak up on them, though."

"Then we go down and see about negotiations," I suggested. "And I've a feeling that I'm going to end up in front no matter what, so let me just get that over with."

As we walked down the stairs, we caught the attention of the slavers. One of them in particular leered at us. I guessed he was the leader. "Well, what do we have here?" he asked. His voice was slimy.

"Danzig, I presume?" I asked politely as I reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the open area. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed. Gesturing to the others, he ordered, "Clap 'em in irons and we'll see what the Tevinters will pay for them in addition to that mage boy." I bristled at the implication of being enslaved. "Oh, wait, this pretty one is a mage. Must be powerful, to hide." …Damn it. How did I let that slip so easily? I was fast losing my temper. "Yes, a strong one, with strong blood. I'm sure a magister will pay a lot to have her carry on some bloodlines."

I almost retorted, but was startled to feel myself dragged back. Fenris was standing in front of me, snarling at the slavers. Well, that… actually, as surprised as I was, I was a little touched he was thinking of protecting me. So, I smiled sweetly at him as I requested, "Think you can get them to talk, Fenris? They're being rude."

"Yeah, I can do that," he replied with forced nonchalance. He immediately stuck his hand inside Danzig's chest. "Should I rearrange the organs?"

"I need him to talk, not cough up blood and babble."

"Fair enough." He pulled his arm out of the Danzig and let him drop. "How strange to see a slaver on their knees. I could get used to it."

"Careful," I warned as Danzig slowly picked himself up. "I'm sure they liked it to. Or their employers, at least."

"Andraste's great flaming ass!" Danzig finally breathed, startling me. Hadn't heard _that_ one before. "How did you do…? No, never mind. What are you here for?"

"You have a young mage boy in your custody?"

"In a cave on the wounded coast. Smuggler hideout." Convenient. "Tevinters will be by within the next few days to finish the deal." Lovely. "C-can I go?"

I smiled, walked up, and patted his shoulder. "No." I blasted his head off with a lightning bolt and went to walk up the stairs. "Aveline, your call from here."

"Immediate execution," Aveline answered immediately. Her only reaction to my killing Danzig was a concerned look. "No need for a trial. There's plenty of evidence."

While Carver went happily into the fray with Aveline, Fenris actually followed me up the stairs. "Not going to kill them?" I asked, slightly confused.

"I figured I'd watch," he explained with a shrug. "You took the one I really wanted to kill."

"Sorry."

"It's all right. It was satisfactory to watch. Very brutal."

"I thought he deserved it. Did you not?"

"Did I say that?" He smiled slightly. It was still horribly awkward, but it also held a certain charm. "I do wish you'd let me move something, though."

"I needed to find out where Feynriel was." But as I glanced out the open sides of the mines that Darktown used to be, I knew I'd still have to wait. "It's too dark. The gates are going to be firmly shut." Damn it. "Guess I'd better pray to the Maker that Feynriel survives the night."

"If he doesn't?"

"Then there are going to be some very dead slavers."

"You hate slavers."

"Have I not said that?"

"No, I mean…" He groped for the words. "Loathe. That's the word I think I want. You loathe them."

"Yes."

"But why?"

The answer slipped out. "I want to fly. Slavers just drag everyone down to the loathsome ground."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." I must still be shaken by Flemeth. That really was the best explanation. I hadn't even been able to bring myself to ask Bethany about those dreams. How stupid to say I wanted to fly. Yes, that would be nice, but I'd rather be here on the ground with my family. Right? Right.

"Hey, what are you doing with my sister?" Carver suddenly growled, appearing with a scowl as he forced his way between Fenris and me.

"Talking," Fenris sighed, like he was annoyed. "Just talking."

"Hawke, I don't think anyone can head out at this hour," Aveline commented as she walked up the stairs herself.

"I know," I whispered. "So, do you need me to report?"

"Yes, and get some compensation, all three of you. For helping to deal with slavers." Yay, money. "And Hawke? Get some rest tonight."

"I'll try."

* * *

As soon as the gates opened the next morning, I was dragging Merrill, Anders, and Varric outside. Anders, in case Feynriel was badly off, Varric, in case we had to bullshit our way out of trouble, and Merrill, because Feynriel might feel more comfortable around a non-grouchy elf.

"This cave looks similar to the last one we were in," I noted as we descended into the cave Varric's mysterious sources hinted we'd find the smugglers.

"Get used to in, Hawke," Varric grumbled. "All of them look the same."

"At least we won't get lost so easily." I looked around and found no sign of Merrill. "Or not. Where's Merrill?"

"I'm… over here, I think?" I vaguely heard her say. "I… oh dear, did I mess something up?"

"Where _is_ she?" Anders demanded. "The wall?"

"I leaned against the wall and suddenly appeared here. Um… oh, dear."

"Where did you lean, Daisy?" Varric asked.

"The wall?"

"Very helpful, Merrill," I sighed.

"Oh, is it?" She sounded so cheerful that I couldn't bear to point out that I'd been sarcastic. Instead, I set about trying to figure out where she'd leaned.

"This is crazy," Anders sighed. "We have to find her and the slavers!"

"Just take deep breaths," I suggested.

"We're underground. I hate it."

"I knew I liked you, Blondie," Varric noted. "I hate them too."

"But, you're a dwarf?"

"Born on the surface. I'm convinced one of the reasons dwarves are so insane and uptight is because they live down here. Case in point, my brother."

"Huh. Maybe you're on to something," I murmured, leaning onto a section of the wall that seemed different from the others. I was rewarded with the wall turning and showing a confused Merrill.

"Oh, hello!" she greeted with a cheerful smile. "I'm glad you're here. There have been strange murmurs up ahead. It's been giving me the creeps."

"Strange murmurs?"

"Yes, there was talk of a boy being uncooperative."

"…Merrill, you're a genius."

"Oh?"

"I'm going to laugh if Daisy found a way to sneak behind the slavers," Varric chuckled as we walked down the hidden path. "It'll be glorious."

"Gloriously lucky," Anders muttered. "But I was in the Wardens long enough to know how luck can really decide the outcome of a battle."

"We're coming up on a supposed dead end," I called back as we reached the end of the tunnel. "But one section is a blatantly different color."

"Then let's hope it's quiet."

"Right." I pushed against the wall and it slowly turned. I wouldn't call it 'quiet' but it at least didn't squeak or anything. And the wall took us up on a ledge that only held two people. One was a heavily armed man. The other was a scared boy with the light of magic in his eyes. "I think we've found them."

"Where did you come from?" one yelled. He was dressed in good quality armor and kept his hair and beard neatly trimmed. Someone took extra care of his appearance, likely because he was the one actually selling things.

I ignored him, though, in favor of the scared boy. "Are you Feynriel?" The boy twisted to look at me. His wrists and legs were bound, and someone had decided to gag him, so the only way he could answer was to nod. "Hang on. I'll get you out."

The bearded leader drew his blade and held it at Feynriel's throat. "Take one more step and the boy dies," he threatened.

"Well, it's a good thing I don't need to take another step." A quick call to magic, a flash of silver-white light in my hand, and the guy with the sword was nothing more than an ice statue. "Anyone else want to screw with an angry mage?" I asked as I strolled to the edge of the ledge. Though no one below moved, I bared my teeth in a smile. "Well, why am I asking? Of course you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have gone into this business in the first place."

"Hawke, we _really_ need to work on your temper," Varric commented as I summoned a lightning storm to attack them. They were wearing metal armor, so I knew it would be better than simple fire.

"Nah, I like this," Anders noted. "Mages are feared for a reason."

"I thought the point of you all getting freedom, though, was to make you _not_ seem dangerous?" He sighed. "Ah well. So, things we learned today. Hawke has a third sore spot: slavers. Do not get on Hawke's bad side as it's incredibly unhealthy, especially when you manage to hit two of her sore spots simultaneously."

"Hawke, I'd love to learn a little from you," Merrill requested. "I can trade some Dalish spells for them. You took care of all of them with that." I did what now? I… uh oh.

"I need to find a nice calm spot and just meditate for a bit," I complained as I realized I'd put more power than I'd intended into the spell. This was getting embarrassing. Thank Andraste it had been a tempest spell, which wasn't known for friendly fire. "Just sit there for a while until my head is back on straight."

"Kirkwall's not known to be kind to mages," Varric commented. "Maybe it's getting to you."

"It's because I've slacked in training. That's all." And me not liking all that Flemeth had said. But if I couldn't control myself, then I couldn't protect my family. That was all that mattered, so I had to work harder.

"I think Varric and I should go check the side tunnels before I knock you out for being stubborn," Anders sighed. "Call if you see serious bleeding, but he seems fine for now."

As he and Varric jumped down and split up, Merrill and I worked on getting the bindings around Feynriel's wrists, ankles, and mouth. As soon as we freed him, he pushed himself up, wobbling only slightly. Well, someone was resilient.

"You would've let him kill me!" he snapped as he unconsciously rubbed his neck. Had spirit too. "He had a sword and you just…!" He paused suddenly and looked sheepish. "Um… not that I'm not grateful. Thank you very much." It seemed like Fenris was the only exception to elf blood leading to adorableness. …Okay, and even then, there were times… "Um, but what are you doing here? Was it just a coincidence or…?"

"Your mother sent us," I answered.

"Might as well have been the templars." He sounded so bitter. "My whole life, she goes on and on about how I'm her joy, how she loves me, will protect me. But a few bad dreams make her go 'off to the templars'!"

"She's just scared for you." Which was rather lucky. "She's right about you needing training if the demons are getting to you. Let me help."

"Why?" He was being suspicious _now_? Okay, granted, the last person who'd claim to help him almost sold him into slavery… actually, yeah. Caution was probably something he needed to practice. "I know you're a mage, but that's it."

"I am an apostate who has been kept safe by her parents. I'm you."

"Oh." He laughed awkwardly, but smiled hopefully. "Then, can you help me reach the Dalish? That's where I was trying to go, you see. I wanted to know if they'd take me in."

"Your humanity will mark you," Merrill suddenly warned. She'd been listening patiently behind me. "But I think the Keeper will welcome you. We value the old ways." She smiled. It was both sweet and sad. "But you will be lonely."

"That's preferable to the Circle," Feynriel muttered. "Please?"

"Well, I don't see why not," I answered. "Come, I'll take you there." I glanced back to see Anders and Varric appear from the side tunnels. "All clear?"

"Except for some new corpses," Varric answered. "Need something?"

"I want you three to make sure no Templars follow us up Sundermont."

"If he's hiking that blasted mountain, I insist on checking his health," Anders declared. "Have you thought of how you'll tell his mother dearest? I'm sure she's just dying to know what's going on?"

"I'll tell her," Merrill volunteered as I patted Feynriel on the shoulder to reassure him. He looked a little dazed, but very happy.

"Thanks, Merrill." That just let me reporting to Aveline… and Thrask.

"Wait, you're really helping me?" Feynriel asked. "Really?"

"Yes, really," I answered. "Anders? How is he?"

"Well, I'm a little surprised he's standing," Anders replied. "No big wounds, but he's going to start to get shaky soon. I take it he hasn't eaten."

"Well, I'm sure we can find something for him as we hike." I hefted Feynriel onto my back so that he didn't have to walk. "There we go. That'll make sure you don't trip until we get you back to normal."

"I'm having trouble believing this," Feynriel mumbled. "How…?"

"Just lay your weary head to rest, okay? You flew a little high this time, so let someone catch you."

"Okay."

* * *

After dropping off Feynriel with a welcoming Marethari and returning to Kirkwall to report to Aveline, I made my way to the Gallows. Luckily for me, Thrask was in the Courtyard. I didn't have to ask for him.

"Ah, hello again," he greeted when he saw me. "We've found neither hide nor hair of Feynriel. Have you better luck?"

"He made it to the Dalish," I answered. "I figured it was out of Templar hands at that point."

"It is. That's an interesting solution." He gave me a studying look. "Did he just happen to escape to there or did you assist?"

"I know better than to answer a loaded question like that. I live in Lowtown."

"So, you did."

"Did I say that? I don't recall doing so."

"It is merely an inference."

"Yeah, yeah." I pulled the letter out of my pocket and handed it to him. "I found this." I didn't say more. There was really no need.

He knew what it was the second he saw the writing. "I see. So, you know."

"My apologies for your loss."

"I hesitated at tracking her down when she first escaped. If I hadn't, perhaps I could've saved her from whatever it was that made her go down that path. It's why I urged Arianni to not give up. I know the price of parental weakness."

"Well, she's at peace now, and there's no more worry about the templars."

"Thank you." He smiled softly. "She is finally at peace. I would not wish to see her name smeared with her ashes still warm." He gave me a look. "So, you said that while tracking Feynriel, you saw him cross into the Dalish camp and stopped pursuit?"

"Yeah, sounds about right."

"I will make sure that is in my report, then. I wish you well, Serah."

"And you."

* * *

"Althea, welcome home!" Mother greeted as I stepped inside Uncle Gamlen's house. "You look tired. I'll get you some food, okay?"

As she bustled off to the kitchen, I looked around to see the twins at the fireplace. "No greeting from you two?" I teased.

"We're counting the money," Carver explained. "Didn't want to lose track."

"We're close!" Bethany added excitedly. "Carver and I both counted forty-two sovereigns." Wow. That… wow.

"So, what have you two been doing while I've been out and about?" I asked as I flopped into a chair near them. "I haven't asked about any jobs you've taken, have I?"

"Well, we did a job for Isabela," Bethany added. "Something about cargo."

"'Legitimate' cargo," Carver added sarcastically.

"Hush. And we helped out this horrid man with his mine."

"Of which we own half of."

"And then just some odds and ends. Quick work, nothing big."

"I got caught on the 'owning half a mine' thing," I told them. "_What_?"

"We helped clean it out of spiders and the like," Bethany explained sweetly. "So, the owner offered us half."

"We decided to use your name, as we don't want to deal with him," Carver added.

"Gee, thanks," I commented dryly. "That's _so_ sweet of you."

"Althea, here's your food," Mother said as she appeared with a plate. "I went shopping with Aveline today so that I could learn her tricks to getting decent food here."

"Thanks, Mother." As I took it, I had to ask. "Where's Uncle Gamlen?"

"Said he was busy tonight and that he'd be back late."

"He's either gambling or at the brothel," Caver grumbled. "Father would've kicked him in the head by now."

"No, he wouldn't," Bethany protested. "He'd just scold."

"And _then_ kick him in the head."

"He's not a templar, Carver."

The mention of templars reminded me of the gifts to them. "Bethany, Carver, I've got stuff for you," I told them. "One second." I got up to do a lot of searching through my bedroom for the portrait, but I eventually found it. And my plate of food wasn't even cold when I got back. "Okay, picture for Bethany and these papers for Carver." I passed them over and went back to my eating. "Mother, this is delicious, by the way."

"I'm glad you think so, dear," Mother laughed. "It seems like a while since I've made a decent plate." I'd agree that her previous creations hadn't been up to her quality, but Mother was an amazing cook, so…

"Mother, your food is _always_ good."

"This can't be a picture of me, right?" Bethany asked as she studied the portrait. "I've never worn anything like that. Mother, is this you?"

"Well, let me see," Mother replied. She leaned over to look at it over Bethany's shoulder. "Ah, yes it is. This was my engagement portrait." She pointed at her younger self's hand. "See? That's the ring. I wonder what happened to it after I threw it across the room and left with Malcolm."

"For a life of hardship," Bethany mumbled. "You gave up everything for him."

"I traded a life of loveless luxury for a life of love and happiness. There have been trying times, but the thought of never being Malcolm's wife, being your mother? I can't stand it." Mother smiled. "My old friends likely think I'm insane, but I'd do it all again, knowing what I'd face."

"Mother…" Bethany looked away, clutching the portrait to her chest tightly. Somehow, it seemed like she'd _desperately_ needed to hear that. But why? Mother was always quite obvious with her affection. "Um, Carver? Why are you so quiet?"

Well, there went the good evening. Carver was only quiet right before a tantrum. "Letters from Father?" he finally growled, glaring at the papers I'd handed to him. He hadn't even bothered to look through them. "Is this some sort of joke? What would I gain from this? _You're_ the mage!" He threw the papers to the side and stomped off to his room. "I'm going to bed."

"Carver!" Mother scolded. Carver didn't even pause as he shut the door behind him. "Oh, that boy…"

"I'll deal with him in the morning, since it's my fault," I sighed, standing. Bethany frowned worriedly, but nodded anyway. "Thanks for dinner, Mother, but I need to head to bed myself. I'll clean the dishes in the morning."

"No, Bethany and I will do that." She smiled sweetly. "You just have pleasant dreams, my baby bird."

I made a face. "I'm twenty-four years old!"

"You're still _my_ baby."

"Yeah, yeah." I sighed dramatically; she laughed. "Pleasant dreams to you too, Mama." I'd stopped calling her 'mama' when the twins were born, but the bright smile she wore upon hearing it made me think I should call her that more often. "Sleep well, Bethany."

"You too, Sister."

* * *

Author's Notes – Ah, Feyrniel… give him a few years and he'll be killing people, in their dreams, while they're awake, in a completely different continent. Anyway, though, I think this is one of my favorite quests. But damn if it isn't long (longest chapter yet). I've gotten so tired of staring at it!

The thing about the templars and marriage comes from Gaider, via a forum post. Templars (and, hell, even mages) can marry, but only at Chantry permission and marriage in both cases is impractical more often than not. Only Chantry priests cannot, because they are, essentially, 'married' to the Maker and the Chant.

The thing about Carver, thrones, and shadow comes from a conversation he has with Varric that has occurred prior to this off-screen. Same with his comment about Aveline scolding him on his form. The biggest difficulty of first person POV is that events are interpreted through one person only, and that one person can only see so much. Still, I like it best for novelization like this, where you are playing a character you've created.

Why is it that only Rogue!Hawke has the cool cutscene here? I can sorta understand a warrior, but come on! Mages don't need to move to cast spells! This is another mission where we see Hawke's true strength as she's _very_ pissed off during a good chunk of it. Don't worry. I'll tone it down in the next few, as Hawke's horribly embarrassed at losing control so much. [Btw, tempest is one of the few spells that apparently doesn't do friendly fire even on nightmare mode.]

…I sorta sneaked in some lyrics from a somewhat well-known Kansas song. I wonder if anyone will pick it out?

Oh, and yes, Carver and Bethany have been doing quests too. Have to have them do something while not with Hawke, right?

If anyone is curious as to why Leandra's more cheerful and openly affectionate here than she is in game, it's because she's not mourning the death of a child in my version as both Bethany and Carver survived the prologue.

Long author's note is long. Next Chapter – The Unbidden Rescue.


	15. Chapter 14) Unbidden Rescue

**Kirkwall – Hightown and Wounded Coast – 9:31**

_Unbidden Rescue_

* * *

"_I thought that boy…" the Seeker begins._

_But the dwarf waves a hand to tell her to be quiet. "Now, now," he chides. "Don't skip. That happened later."_

"_But I'd heard that…"_

"_What? That he'd gone to the Circle? To Tevinter? Became Tranquil? Possessed? I've told the stories multiple times and I think I've used all of those at least once, and many others."_

"_Why confuse the issue?"_

"_Makes it more fun, of course. The story must fit the audience."_

"_And you give me the truth because that is what I seek."_

"_Precisely."_

* * *

After a night of nightmares, I finally gave up on sleep sometime around dawn. I'd hoped to try and use the extra time to think of how to deal with Carver. Unfortunately, he'd gotten up even earlier, and he was still glaring at the letters when I came out of the bedroom and shut the door behind me. Everyone else was still asleep, so it was just us.

"Good morning," I murmured, keeping my voice even.

"Morning," he replied, perfectly surly. Not a great start. "I'm going to burn these."

What?! "No, you're not."

"Why? Because they're Father's?"

"One would think you hated Father with that sort of talk." I tried to keep my tone light. "Besides, they belong to the family. I just gave them to you first."

"Right, I'm sure there's something useful for mages there."

"Mother might like some reminders of old tales, you know. You're not the only one without magic in the family."

"Just the only swordsman."

I didn't have the patience for this. It was too early, and I hadn't gotten enough sleep the past few days. "Carver, your attitude is getting stale."

"Try it from this side, always running after you. Always in your shadow, always seeing you get all the praise and the glory. Having to hide myself to not draw any attention. Not that it mattered. Could've found my fortune if our home was going to be lost under your watch."

…That hurt. That really, _really_ hurt and, by the Maker, I was so tired of this bullshit from him. "Do you feel better?" I asked lightly. Politely even!

"I…" Carver's anger vanished as he realized _something_ was wrong. "I suppose?"

"Good." I got right in his face, snarling. "Because I carry every damn failure with me. Every person I couldn't save, every person I'm scared of losing… they're in my nightmares every damn night. I still see Wesley's death. I still see Lothering burning to the ground. I still see all the people I've killed to protect us. I'm _never_ going to be rid of them. You want the weight on my shoulders, Carver? Then you'd better be sure you're ready to take it. As it stands now, I'm sure you'd just collapse." I turned away and went to the door. Perhaps I could slip outside of Kirkwall and do some training to blow off this steam.

"Sister!" Or not. "I…"

"And furthermore…" Not letting him try to defend himself, I whirled to face him again, pointing at the letters. "Why don't you actually sit there and look through those letters? Do you honestly think I'd give them to you as some twisted joke? There's something in there for _you_, which you would've realized if you didn't have your head so far up your ass." Great, now everything was spilling out. I should just swallow these words and let them just sit somewhere in my head, but I wasn't stopping because I'd been longing to say these things to him for far too long. "Stop blaming everything on me! I'm doing everything I can! I know I'm a poor replacement for Father, but I'm _trying_, damn it! I've trained every day to have half his skill so that we don't have to worry! I've work my hardest so that there's food on the table! I've _skipped meals_ so that you could stuff yourself! If you're so Maker-damned sure that it's all my fault, then how about you own up to your own responsibilities and do something with your life besides complaining! How about you _stop hiding_ behind me when things get rough while you're at it?"

"I'm-"

"Living in my shadow? If you're in my shadow, it's because you're too freaking scared to leave it! Then you have the gall to say its all _my_ fault when things don't seem to work out for you? You haven't done a single mature thing in all your life, right up to joining the army at Ostagar because you thought it would accept you! Why do you think Aveline didn't let you join the Guard?"

"I…"

"Stop being a lazy brat with a chip on your shoulder! Life doesn't give anyone anything! You've got to take it, which is what I've been doing ever since Father died because I was the only one who decided not to run and hide in grief!"

Before he could even attempt to reply to that, I turned away and slammed the door shut behind me. I was _not_ up for this now. Sorry, Father. I was doing very badly here. But I just couldn't handle this now. There was too much to deal with already. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

* * *

I decided to check in on Aveline to see if she had a job for me. I could help her out _and_ blow off some steam in a mildly constructive manner. Some shouting on the second floor caught my ear, but I ignored it in favor of slipping into the Barracks. The place was noticeably more relaxed than it was under Jevan's leadership. I wondered if there was just less to do, or if the guards felt that they were less likely to gamble with their lives now that they were under the command of a _competent _captain.

"Aveline?" I called, poking my head into the Captain's Office. "You there?"

"Somewhere in this sea of papers," Aveline grumbled from the desk. There were three or four sizable piles on her desk. "Maker, I don't like this."

The yelling upstairs grew louder. "Getting rather noisy upstairs. Can't tell if that's the angry yelling or-"

"It's anger, Hawke." She was smiling slightly at my implication. "At least, I hope it is. It doesn't sound very fun for either party."

"Got to say I agree with you." I peeked at the papers and made a face at the longs lines of numbers and inventory. Yuck. "Well, this looks like fun."

"If you want it, Hawke, you can have them." She sighed heavily. "There's a big chunk of our weapons, shields, and armor that are missing and the only lead I have at the moment is that it's got _something_ to do with what Jevan did."

"Need help?"

"Not yet. I've asked Varric to do some asking about. When he does, I'll want you to take care of it. My guards are spread a little too thin for now."

"You got it." There was a sudden slam. I poked my head out the door to see a stern woman dressed in mercenary garb force her way out of the Keep.

"Is she gone?"

"And in quite a temper." I turned back to Aveline. "Say, what _is_ going on?"

"Saemus has been kidnapped," Aveline answered as she frowned at a piece of paper.

"Who is that again?"

"The Viscount's son. They got desperate enough to send out a post to every bounty hunter in the Free Marches." She grimaced. "The Winters found him."

"And that woman was?"

"Ginnis, their leader."

"She seemed…" I groped for a word. "Rough."

"All of them are like that. Violent and horrible with a bad reputation for getting the job done at all costs."

That didn't sound healthy. "Perhaps I should go and make sure they don't kill the poor boy?"

"Thank you." She smiled warmly enough to tell me it had really been bothering her. "She's heading for the Wounded Coast. Maybe Varric knows more?"

"Got it. Do you want to come?"

"I would, but can't." She nodded at the papers. "I have to get these done."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it." She still kept her smile. "Hey, when I get these done, will you yell at Anders for me?"

For? Wesley, right. I'd almost forgotten. "You know it. See you soon."

* * *

"I hate this coast," Isabela sighed as we hunted down the Wounded Coast for the Winters. "I washed up near here."

"Sorry," I mumbled. I hadn't thought about when I'd asked her to help me out. I was mostly thinking that she'd be able to help me track these Winters down, just as Varric could (and was). Fenris rounded out our group of four in case I needed intimidation, because he was very good at that if you didn't catch him off guard.

"Don't worry so much, bird." Isabela had taken to calling me that for some reason. "I'm just complaining because these Winters people are incompetent."

"They left some pretty obvious tracks," Varric added from ahead. "I think a nug could find them."

"So what, exactly, is the plan?" Fenris asked as we continued walking. "You mentioned intimidation, but not fighting."

"Contrary to what you might suspect, I actually _don't_ like fighting," I sighed. "So if we can scare them into letting us help them, that'll be nice."

"Do you not want to reward?"

"I'm here on Aveline's request."

"You are also hunting for money, yes?"

"Yes, but they did find him first. I'm here because Aveline's worried they'll hurt their target. It's not nice, nor fair, to steal."

"But stealing's fun most of the time," Isabela laughed. "Though it's hard from the Qunari." Huh? "At least, that's what I heard!" She started glancing around awkwardly. "Varric, how much longer? I don't like all this dust on my legs."

"Well, maybe if someone wore _pants_," Varric cracked.

"All my good clothes were left on the bottom of an ocean."

"Sea."

"Whatever. Besides, I'm not the only one pushing the lines of decency. Varric, _that_ chest hair…"

"I'll let you run your fingers through it later."

"Ooo, I'm quivering in anticipation!" Giggling, she twisted to look at Fenris. "Hmm, best distract myself before I pounce. Fenris, have I ever told you I enjoy a man with markings like that?"

"From what I've heard, you've enjoyed many," Fenris immediately quipped. "Not just men, of course."

"Of course. Now, where I come from, they're called 'tattoos'." It took me a second to realize she was talking about the markings, not whoever she'd slept with. "Sailors get them all the time. Why, I have one myself, right on my-"

"Not made of lyrium, I'd imagine."

"Not a one. And the pictures are different." She smiled mischievously. "Usually involve breasts."

"I suppose a pair of lyirum breasts tattooed onto my chest would make things better." I burst into giggles at the nonchalant, matter-of-fact way he said that.

"That's me, a helper through and through!" Isabela turned to me with a smile. "And there's a pretty smile, bird. You've been so sad all morning."

"I have?" I asked, startled. I thought I'd been doing rather well at hiding my guilt over the morning argument with Carver.

"You weren't smiling with your beautiful eyes. You need to do that more."

"Eh?"

"She's right, you know," Fenris mumbled awkwardly. "You have a very pretty smile, when it's real."

"Well, Elf jokes _and_ flirts," Varric laughed, jumping back into the conversation. "And here I was convinced that you just brooded with that one joke being a fluke."

"I don't brood." Well, that was a lie if I ever heard one.

"Elf, if your brooding were any more impressive, women would swoon as you passed." Isabela faked a swoon right there to make me laugh again. "They'd have broody babies in your honor."

"You're a very odd dwarf."

"Yeah, I think I lost something with my sense of dwarven rpide and gold-plated noble caste pin. But seriously, is it a sport or something in Tevinter? Hand out trophies for the best scowls?"

"I'm not brooding."

"Moping, then. You seem like you're a champion at it."

"I'm perfectly content at the moment." He _was_?! Both Isabela and I exchanged surprised glances. I'd been sure he was upset at me dragging him outside.

Even Varric was silent for a split second. "Oh, so this is you smiling?" he finally asked. "Glad you clarified. I'd never have known."

Fenris ducked his head. I've noticed that he often did that when he was uncomfortable. "I am still learning how to show it."

"It would help if you didn't talk to the ground when you're uncomfortable," I advised. I almost reached out to turn his face towards me, but checked the movement in time. He didn't like being touched. "You can look us in the eye, too. You have no problems when you're angry doing that."

"I don't?" He sounded surprised.

"Nope." When he brought his head up to look at me, I smiled as warmly as I could. "Take baby steps, though. I'm sure that despite all the teasing, we'll all try and help."

"Getting drunk at the Hanged Man does wonders!" Isabela piped up.

"There's nothing strong enough at the Hanged Man," Fenris commented. "There is that wine cellar in Danarius's house, though."

"Ooo, party at Fenris's!"

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

"We're coming up on them," Varric declared, putting a serious face on. "Let's tone down the fun times until we can get close. They might put Saemus in a hostage situation if they think we're here to hurt them." Joy.

We all nodded silently and carefully made out way to one of the few beach-like areas on the Wounded Coast. When we rounded the corner to it, though, we immediately ducked back as a low grunt of pain echoed to us.

"Look at the size of it," Isabela breathed as she peered back around the rock face to see what was going on. "I've seen many, but never that big."

"Please tell me you're talking about her knives and not something else," I sighed.

"Well, of course." She faked a wounded pout. "What else would I be talking about?"

"I'll give you a list later," Varric snarked. "What happened?"

"That Winters Lady shanked a Qunari in the back, that's what." Oh. Great. Hopefully the Qunari wouldn't be insulted by this. Yes, they weren't by my killing Arvaraad, but I'd also admitted that to the Arishok's face. I highly doubted Ginnis would do the same.

"Let's see about getting closer."

"I'll go," I volunteered. "You three stay back, okay?"

"I think all three of us are better at dodging that you," Fenris protested. "I also highly doubt you're going to _sneak_ closer."

"I want to see about talking, remember? Besides, I do need more practice in dodging and shielding." Ignoring the other protests, I stepped out from the cover and walked towards the small grouping. Just Ginnis, another mercenary, a boy dressed in high quality clothing, and a Qunari that was dying.

"And the world is rid of one more Qunari," Ginnis scoffed as the Qunari finally passed away. The boy was still frantically trying to stop the bleeding. "Easier than I expected." She signaled someone as the boy finally realized the Qunari was dead. What was going on? "Call the men back."

"Ashaad…" I heard the boy whisper. "I'm… I'm so sorry." The boy twisted to glare at Ginnis. "You killed him! Vashedan bitch!"

"Is that one of _their_ words?" she sneered. "See? This is why you need to be dragged home. You're playing too nice." She smirked. "I'd wager you've gone further than that, huh?"

"Rather rough for a rescue, don't you think?" I asked as I stepped into the clearing proper. Both of their eyes shot to me. "And rather rude as well. I'm guessing no one taught you manners."

"Competition?" Ginnis asked with a sigh. "You're too late. I've claimed him."

"You're Serah Hawke, aren't you?" the boy asked. "You worked for the Red Irons and have been an invaluable ally to the new Guard Captain." He took my arm suddenly. I wondered if he was aware of the blood on his hands. He had a few of the signs of shock, despite his clear and steady tone. "Serah, my name is Saemus." Wait, so Aveline _hadn't_ been joking about nobles knowing who I was? "I will _gladly_ pay you if you make certain these murderers are not rewarded."

"Well, I'm here because the Guard Captain was worried the Winters would be rough on you," I began as Ginnis growled and glared. "So, you do need to get back. You've got the court thinking you were kidnapped."

"If I must go back, then so be it. But not with them. As I said, I will not see these murderers rewarded."

"Spoiled shit," Ginnis snapped, drawing her daggers. "I'll cut out your tongue and charge extra for bringing you back quiet at long last. And as for _you_…" She focused on me. "I could do with some entertainment. Stupid of you to come alone."

"Stupid of you to think I did," I retorted, pointing back to where the others should be. "I came with a few friends."

"And Bianca hates people like her!" I heard Varric laugh as a crossbow bolt went over my shoulder and into Ginnis's. "Beautiful as always, Bianca."

"It'll take more than that to take out the Winters," she snapped as she tried to pull out the bolt. It was apparently wedged in there deep. If that was the case…

"I would advise not removing that, as it's actually keeping you alive longer," I helpfully advised. "It's plugging up the wound and there are quite a few important veins there that can bleed out fast." She ripped it out anyway. "Or you could ignore the person who knows a little healing. That works too."

"I _said_ it would take more than that to take out the Winters!"

"Really? Because the springs seem to do a good job with that. Though the _do_ come back once the autumns are over. Will you?"

"I'm going to gut you, bitch!"

"I'm Fereldan, so thank you for the compliment." I drew my sword. "But with that arm, I doubt you're going to do much of anything, really."

"Want to bet?" She pulled out a flask and threw it to the ground, conjuring up a smokescreen. Since I'd been so close, I caught a face-full of the smoke and started coughing hard enough to tear up, messing up my vision even further. I grabbed Saemus by the arm and tugged him forward in hopes that moving would make us less of targets.

She still caught me through the back of my shoulder. But that was okay, because even though she'd targeted the arm holding the sword… "I'm ambidextrous," I rasped, tossing the sword to the other hand and whirling to strike Ginnis. As I guessed, she'd lingered behind me and so I took off an arm and part of her neck. "You shouldn't underestimate people, you know."

"Same goes to you!" Varric scolded, appearing from the clearing smoke. "You didn't even think about a smokescreen did you?"

"No?"

"Hawke, that was stupid." Yes, I knew. I'm sorry. "Also, where did the ambidextrous thing come from? I haven't seen anything."

"That's because I was born right-handed, but learned how to wield a sword in both hands," I answered with light coughing. My lungs were clearing up finally. "I haven't been in a fight yet where I'd had to switch sword hands, Varric, and I see no point in just randomly switching."

"Points for the ability, but minus some for lack of foreshadowing and hints." Okay? "Who learns things like that, anyway?"

"Father made certain that I could in case I needed to use a hand for…" Magic. "Something else. Like holding a person."

"Right, right."

"Serah, you're bleeding," Saemus pointed out weakly. He was definitely pale now. "You need to get that treated." Sighing, I pulled out some bandages from my pack and set about fixing it to my shoulder with my hand and teeth. I couldn't use magic here at all, as Saemus was here. Maybe I could… no, knocking him out would likely leave him with worse trauma later. There was no need to be selfish.

"So, what are we going to do about the rest of them?" Isabela asked as she strutted up to help me with the bandage. She really must do that instinctively, as there was no reason to put on a show here. "She said there would be more coming, right?"

"They're actually on their way now," Fenris added as he jumped down from one of the rocks. "Quite a few of them as well."

"Well, Bianca's been bored and I need more material for stories. Should be good," Varric noted with a sigh. He looked at me with a sudden 'I can't believe it' face. "By the way, what was with 'I'm Fereldan, so thank you for the compliment'?"

"What? It was the first thing I thought of!" I defended even as I wondered if this was really the time to talk about that!

"I'm going to use that in one of my stories."

"Sure?"

"Awesome. Now, let's figure out how we're going to guard this place."

"Chokepoints? Will that work?"

"There are three paths and four of us who can fight," Fenris agreed. "Three of which use close-range weapons."

"So, Varric stays for support, while you, me, and Isabela take one of the paths and holds them for dear life."

"It'll be tricky," Isabela warned. "I'm for dodging, and choke-points don't allow a lot of that, even when they're out in the open like this."

"Varric, prioritize helping Isabela over Fenris and me," I ordered. Varric made a face, but just sighed instead of saying anything. "Fenris? That okay?"

"If needed, I can phase through their weapons," he dismissed. Wait, what? "It takes concentration, but can be done. I will be fine. This is better than what Danarius would have me do."

"Well, all right. But don't strain yourself."

"What happens if he does?" Isabela asked.

"I take him to Anders, of course."

"How's that a punishment?"

"Rivaini, you haven't seen the two of them together," Varric sighed. "I caught a glimpse. Here's one now. See how much Elf tensed up?"

"Oh, I guess you're right."

"Um… my pardon," Saemus interrupted. "But they're arriving."

"Which means it's time to move," I sighed. Of course it had ended in a fight. Nothing in Kirkwall had a peaceful solution. "Now, no one do anything reckless or I shall come up with punishments."

"What would be my punishment, bird?" Isabela asked innocently. "I might find it worth it."

"Something involving the Chantry, chastity, and being sober."

"Never mind." I had to laugh at how quickly she said that as she raced to the middle checkpoint, the roomiest of the three.

"Hawke, what sort of punishment are we dealing to _you_ for being reckless?" Varric asked before I could go to the leftmost path. Fenris had already taken the right.

"I just need more training," I dismissed.

"No, you train too much. Look, even _Aveline_ says so, which means you know you've gone over the limit. Maybe that'll be the punishment. No training."

"But if I don't train, I'm not going to get stronger. I'm still weak, so I have to train extra hard."

"…Yeah, no training. This shall be enforced."

"Varric!"

"They're here, you know."

He was right, so I had to race over and cut down the first ones that appeared. Fenris had kindly given me the narrowest of the three paths, so I didn't have to worry so much about my wounded right arm and could focus on killing just the one or two that would appear to try and attack me. They did at some points try to push more through, but they either went falling into the water below or slamming their fellows into the rocks and addling them enough for a kill.

That said, I was the last one done, because I had to compensate for the wounded shoulder and _not_ re-open it. When I was, I turned to the others and did a quick visual check for injuries. Some minor ones, things that would likely heal up on their own, but nothing serious. "Looks like we're here in one piece," I noted with a smile.

"And none of us were ridiculously reckless," Isabela added hastily. I had to smother a giggle. "So, no unusual punishments."

"We'd best move quickly," Fenris noted seriously. "No doubt there are more nearby, just father off."

"Yeah, but Saemus isn't hearing anyone," Varic added sadly, gesturing at the clearing. Saemus was just fine, but was kneeling next to the Qunari's corpse. "I've already tried."

"I'll get him," I volunteered softly. "Just wait a moment." I made my way behind Saemus and waited a bit to see if he'd acknowledge me on his own or if he'd need to be reminded that he was out in the open still.

"Ashaad never lied or coddled," Saemus whispered after a moment as he placed a gentle hand on his friend's corpse. I wasn't sure if he was just thinking aloud or actually talking to me. "You were either worth his time or not." He looked up at me. "They aren't the brutes others claim they are, Serah."

"They claim they are brutes because they are difficult to understand," I replied. "I recently saw one of their mages set himself on fire in order to live, and die, by their Qun. I can't understand that quite yet."

"Yes, there is much many don't understand. But it's worth trying, is it not?"

"If we want to avoid another war? Yes." I held out a hand and helped him up. "Did you happen to learn their burial practices?"

"They have none in the manner we understand. To them, a body is nothing more than a husk. I believe that his 'soul', as the Qunari understand it, is a weapon?" He shook his head. "I don't know which one, if it is even here. I'm certain his people will gather it and retreat into their solitude. That is their way. If only I could get my father to see this!"

"Well, he _is_ waiting for you. Let's get going."

"Yes, Serah…"

We started walking back. Isabela and Varric were up front to watch for any other Winters who might be lying in wait. Fenris lingered behind in case one of the ones we thought were dead suddenly sprang up. I kept Saemus by my side in the middle of the group. Though the terrain was even and not long, I soon heard him breathing oddly and wondered if it was because he was a 'soft noble'. But when I glanced to check on him, I found that the odd breathing was actually due to muffled sobs. "Go ahead and cry," I whispered to him.

'P-pardon, Serah?" Saemus asked shakily. His eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"You just lost someone dear to you. You don't have a duty that you have to shoulder at the moment, and there's not a person here who'd mock you. So, there's no reason to hide your tears." I patted his shoulder. "All you're doing is ruining your health, Saemus. I'd think he'd be quite vexed over that."

"I… I suppose…" He started breaking down, though he still tried to keep quiet. I just wrapped an arm around his shoulders and signaled the others to keep an eye on the surrounding area, as I made sure he didn't accidentally trip on the way back to Kirkwall.

Misunderstandings left and right… this was going to cost someone something. And I had a feeling the price was going to be far too high for even a _city_ to pay.

* * *

Saemus had recovered by the time we'd made it to the Keep, though his eyes remained bloodshot. We were quickly ushered into the upper levels of the Keep, into the Viscount's private area. Varric, Fenris, and Isabela all bailed as soon as they realized where we were being herded, each with equally lame excuses. Sure, leave me to deal with the awkward family situations. That was just fine. It wasn't like I had anything to do today anyway.

The red-haired, and sneering, Seneschal opened the door to the Viscout's office and ushered me inside after Saemus to meet the Viscount. This was going to be oh-so-much fun. No, not really.

The Viscout was an older man, completely bald and showing a snow-white stubble on his jaw. The grey iron circlet on his head looked heavy and uncomfortable, but he certainly smiled warmly enough when he looked up and saw his son.

"Father," Saemus called softly. "I'm home."

"I thought I'd lost you," the Viscount breathed, standing up to hug his son. That one movement alone told me something important: the Viscount absolutely adored his son, no matter what arguments or troubles there might be.

"Enough, Father. We have a guest."

"Ah, yes." The Viscount pulled away from his son with a bit of reluctance, so that he could look at me. "And this is?" The Seneschal opened his mouth to reply, but the Viscount waved him off. "No, I know that smile. You must be Leandra Amell's eldest. You look a bit like her." I… what? I looked like _Mother_? First time I'd ever heard that. It had always been how much I looked like _Father_. "I remember her from long ago. Her elopement triggered quite the political storm." Yes, I was well aware of this by this point of my life. There was no need to tell me this. "The Seneschal and I are still looking into how we can give the Amell Estate back to her, in light of the recent news that her inheritance was, essentially, stolen from her." And no one thought to do anything about it when it happened? "Unfortunately, it's under investigation due to recent slavers, so the process has been severely delayed." Oops. "Is it…? No, Hawke is your family name, correct?"

"It's Althea," I managed without sighing. "Althea Hawke. I go by the latter as it's more professional." And I _hated_ my first name!

"I see. You have my thanks." His smile faltered briefly. "Were there any difficulties? I heard the Winters had involved themselves?"

Just a few dozen deaths from the crowd that tried to kill us. "Minimal."

"Guard patrols in the area report of a great deal of fighting," the Seneschal corrected. "The whole of the Winters group is dead."

"Minimal problems," I repeated firmly. I wanted out of here. Why couldn't this had happened in the Barracks or something? "That resulted in some deaths."

"Was there no way to avoid an incident?" the Viscount asked warily. "There will be mercenaries clamoring about." I felt for him, but I honestly couldn't see how we could get out of a fight there.

"They murdered my friend," Saemus tartly informed his father. "Where's the concern for _that_?"

"It was _my_ understanding you were captured, alone, as you were wandering about the coast."

"I was not captured! I was talking with Ashaad! They're not monsters, Father! If you would just _try_ to understand, instead of hiding in a hole every time there's a problem, you'd see that!"

"Saemus, check out Lowtown or even Darktown when you get a chance," I found myself saying. "Maybe you'll see then that it's not so much hiding as trying to figure out how to keep this place from falling with all the problems it's facing." Both the Viscount and Saemus stared at me. "However, not understanding the Qunari is just going to open the door for more problems, as I doubt they'll stand for it for long." I shrugged. "That said, this is obviously a private affair, so I'm leaving."

"You're supposed to ask," the Seneschal grumbled. "That's manners."

It was also polite to _not_ argue family matters in front of guests. "Saemus, if you need another shoulder to lean on, just ask for me. I'll help you out." I turned to walk away.

"There's a reward, you know." Why did I have the feeling the Seneschal was looking down on me because I wasn't a noble? Must be the way he was talking to me as if I was a dog that dragged mud in. "Isn't that why you did the job?"

"No." I couldn't help but smirk at his stunned face. "I did it because Aveline was worried the Winters would harm Saemus. I didn't even know about it until she asked, and now I'm going to let her know that he's in one piece and that she doesn't need to worry anymore and can focus on other things." Unable to resist pulling his tail more, I turned and executed a (more or less) proper bow. Bethany had once begged Mother to show off some of the 'courtly graces' or whatever cutesy thing she'd called it. Carver and I had rolled our eyes at it, but had learned anyway when Father had said it would be useful later. "So now, I humbly beg my leave, Your Grace. Please, have a pleasant day."

Mocking the Seneschal, and by extension the Viscount, was probably going to bite me back later, but it was fun at the time, and a wonderful stress relief.

* * *

Afterwards, I talked with Aveline a bit, helped her finish that paperwork, and got my shoulder properly bandaged. By the time that was all over, enough time had based that I could slip out of the Keep and go back home. The only person home when I got there was Carver, sitting by the fireplace. I almost turned and walked right back out, but then I noticed what he was doing. He was reading the letters.

"I'm home," I said softly, not wanting to scare him.

He still jumped. "Oh, you're back!" he managed after a moment. "Um… Bethany and Mother went shopping for food. Uncle is… somewhere."

"Is that so?" The pile of dishes in the kitchen sink told me Uncle Gamlen had either done his familial duty of eating his weight in food or Mother and Bethany had done some cleaning again.

"Yeah. I… uh… offered to wait here for you. So that you didn't think one of us had been kidnapped by a serial killer or something."

"How nice of you."

"Yeah… um…" He fidgeted a little more before finally sighed. "I can't find what you say is here." He held up the letters. "I've read through most of them, got some great blackmail material out of it, but I still can't find what you said to look for."

"That's because it was the last one, Carver. That's why it was on top." Smiling softly, I took the stack and pulled out the letter. "Take a look now."

He scanned through it, reading aloud. "For your service which cannot be admitted, I ask that you accept this trinket and know that I'll respect your name. Thank you, conscience of the Order, Ser Maurever Carver." He paused. "_Carver_?"

"The templar who helped Father escape Kirkwall with Mother," I added. "He's your namesake."

"And have we met a templar who wasn't a colossal pig?"

"Wesley."

"…Okay, you got me there." He sighed heavily. "Still, it's like the Amells? Another chain?"

"Carver."

"Well? I don't get it! I don't! I'm stuck flailing about and I don't have a damn clue what I can do!"

"Carver, how about you stop worrying about Mother's name and start worrying about yours?" I pointed at the line again. "I remember when you were born. Father was _adamant_ that you be named 'Carver'. Do you know why? He wanted to honor Maurever. He wanted _his_ son to be just as strong, and wise, and honorable. He thought it a good name to give his son. The son he was always, and will always, be proud of. And look at what Carver means."

"One who carves?" he snarked. "Skill thoughtfully applied?"

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"One who carves. One who can carve his _own_ path, once he got the maturity to apply his skill well." I smiled at him. "You're not like Father, Bethany, and me, Carver. You don't have magic. You only have to hide until you grow up, and then you can make your path. _Whatever_ you choose."

"No, because if I get too much attention, then scrutiny will fall on you and Bethany."

"I said when you grow up." I poked him in the head and laughed slightly when he made a face. "You're not yet mature, idiot. You just think you are. Well, either that or you hate me."

"I don't hate you!" Well, that was a quick reply.

"Then it's that you only think you're grown up. Okay? But Carver, you're nineteen. You don't have to be an adult yet. So, stop trying to flail about and… what was it? Get out of my shadow?" Not that I was sure what 'shadow' he was talking about. "You'll do that on your own, once you actually get your feet under you and start taking some more responsibility around here. Do you get it _now_ why I wanted you to read the letters?"

"…To have a more coherent goal." He suddenly smiled. "To have a link that didn't drag me back, but pulled me forward. To find my own way."

"There you go."

"…Sorry for being an ass."

"I'll forget the morning argument if you do, and if you help me with the dishes. You know how Mother is about cooking with dirty dishes in the sink."

"Yeah, she won't until everything is spotless and I'm _starving._ Let's get on that. I'll handle the wash part?" The part he hated most. Haha, he really was going to try, wasn't he?

"Works for me."

* * *

Author's Note – And above is the reason why I prefer Carver to Bethany. Bethany is rather consistently sweet, only seeming to get on you when you joke at a wrong time, or at her expense. This is sweet, and heartwarming, but it can be difficult to get some character development out of it (okay, maybe her rival path is different, but I've never successfully rivaled her). Carver, on the other hand? I get to pull things like the argument and reconciliation scenes above, based on _in-game_ scenes! (what? So, I like a little drama.)

Unbidden Rescue. Introducing Saemus, who becomes mildly more important later as a plot device! …Yes, I do intend on at least _trying_ to bring him up more often. We'll see if that actually happens. Hawke getting involved because Aveline asks just seemed more in line with Althea's character than just reading it off a random poster. Expect another mission that involves reading random posters to also come from Aveline.

Isabela calling Hawke 'bird' is for the same reason she'll call Merrill 'kitten'. Endearing nickname that helps really show affection.

Next chapter – Break Chapter! Hanging out with Varric! Yay! (it's way too late for this…)


	16. Chapter 15) The Hanged Man

**Kirkwall – Lowtown – Hanged Man – 9:31**

_The Hanged Man_

* * *

"_I'm confused about something," the Seeker murmurs._

"_At this rate, we're going to be old and grey by the time I get Hawke into the Deep Roads," the dwarf sighs. "What is it?"_

"_I've heard that you and the Champion were very good friends."_

"_Among the best. I'm proud of it too."_

"_But when did you two spend time with one another?"_

"_Never, I'm not into humans like that."_

"_Not like that!" The Seeker actually flushes, but tries to cover it up. "Just, as friends."_

"_Well, Hawke didn't spend _all_ her time racing about. Just most of it."_

"_Is that so?"_

"_Fine, fine. I think I'll tell you a bit about one instance of hanging out. Our scene? The Hanged Man, of course."_

* * *

The Hanged Man. Depending on the day of the week and the time of day, it was either full of a bunch of thugs with money or a bunch of thugs without money.

Wanting to recover from the past few days, I walked into the tavern see if I could find Varric or Isabela, who essentially lived at the place. It didn't take long to find Varric. He was at a table surrounded by people waiting in breathless anticipation for the next words he spoke. Once again, he was telling some sort of story. Nothing new there, since he adored making up tales. What startled me, though, was the subject.

"Varric?" I called, interrupting Varric as he talked about _dealing with that child-killing serial murderer_.

"Ah, looks like we'll have to wait for the rest of _The Magistrate's Orders_ for another time," Varric noted as he waved. "Hawke's here and she'll get so embarrassed."

"Did you really punch through a wall?" someone asked as soon as they saw me. "That's cool!"

"Saving the elves!" another laughed. "Good on you!"

"What happens next?" someone else begged. "Please?"

"Next time," Varric promised as he shooed them away. "You have to wait until next time."

I was just staring as the others moved away from the table, stunned. "Are you telling stories about _me_?" I finally asked, incredulous.

"Well, yeah." He shrugged. "You're amazing. Beautiful, loyal, brilliant, with a touch of recklessness and absolute insanity. All the perfect parts of a hero."

"I have to live up to that hype, you know."

"Hawke, I'm already toning it down."

Huh? "You are?"

"Yep. Have to make it believable to the people who've never met you."

"…Oh." But, that story actually made me sound cool and strong. That wasn't…? Was that really me?

"Just doing my part to help out."

"Help out with what? I'm _trying_ to stay unnoticeable."

"Then you shouldn't be saving Kirkwall."

"I'm not! I'm just protecting my family. That's all." That's all I wanted, at least. All I _could_ want.

"Unintended consequences are bitches, aren't they?" Varric laughed. "Anyway, water for you, Hawke?"

"Same as always, yes." I smiled when he hailed one of the waitresses to snag me a drink. "So, where's your material coming from?"

"Just what I've seen and heard, Hawke. I _do_ have a few questions for you, though."

Uh oh. "Well, let's see if I've any answers."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. And if not, make something up." I couldn't help but giggle at that. "So, I've been dying to know. What was going through your head when you fought that ogre?"

"What ogre?" It took me a second to remember. "Wait, how did you know about the ogre at Lothering?"

"Carver was pretty proud to tell me how his sister took down an ogre." He was? Wait, when was this? "So?"

"Maker, what did they feed it?" I deadpanned. He snickered. "Okay, to be serious, I just wanted to protect my family. It was heading for the twins and Mother."

"I don't know anyone else that's even seen one." He paused. "Okay, Blondie might've, but he doesn't count, since he used to be a Warden."

"Yes, I'm quite lucky to be standing." If Flemeth hadn't been there… if she hadn't, we all would've died. She'd claimed to come down upon seeing the ogre dying, but was that really the story? It was a pretty big coincidence.

"Somehow, Hawke, I've a feeling things won't be dull around you."

"Damn. I want a quiet life."

"Well, I guess you shouldn't be aiming for the Deep Roads?" I made a face and he laughed. "Constant threat of doom tends to keep you awake."

"A lot of things can keep you awake, Varric." The waitress came by with my water and I smiled at her in thanks. "Not sure if 'doom' is the first one I'd reach for."

"Yeah, I've heard some people have tea in the morning for that. But it's bad for you, I think." He shrugged. "Regardless, it'll be quite the adventure once you get the funds."

"Adventurers, huh? I'll have to remember that the next time Uncle Gamlen gets on my case." He chuckled and I took a gulp of my water. "You mind telling me more about your brother? Or can I leave all the interactions to just you."

"As much as I know you'd prefer it, I doubt that's going to happen." He sighed. "Well, you've got to understand the Merchants Guild if you want any hope of learning about Bartrand. They'd sell their own mothers if they thought it would get them a better deal at the market."

"Then I'm never going to understand."

"I thought not. You're the loyal type. They aren't." He shrugged. "Still, he's getting desperate, chasing rumors of a thaig seven days below the surface. I hope you don't mind the dark."

"Oh, I don't know. I've heard the dark can be quite romantic."

"I'm sure the corruption and blood of darkspawn would add nicely to the mood. And it would spice up the dangerous life of being a younger son. Most of us die of boredom, you see." I nearly choked on my water from laughter. "Thankfully, Bartrand's lack of subtlety and tact keeps me on my toes."

"I see. Any other questions?"

"Hmm… give me a moment. I'm sure I'll think of something."

But as he thought, someone went over to light the fireplace in the corner of the Hanged Man and I remembered the brazier and the vision in the Chantry. "Hey, Varric," I began softly. "What would you do if I told you I could see the future?"

"Ask if you'd mind helping me make a killing at gambling," he immediately joked. "In all seriousness, what?"

"I'm not sure. It's not something I experienced in Fereldan. Just…" I dredged up the memory from way back at the Chantry. "Just be careful. You might be dragged into a war." Even if Flemeth was full of it, it wouldn't hurt to warn him, right?

"Hawke, I'm very good at keeping my nose clean." He sighed. "Still, I'll do my best to be extra careful. Wars are messy and I want nothing to do with them." I had a sudden bad feeling, almost enough to make me nauseous. "Hawke, you okay? You went pale for a second."

"I think remembering that vision thing just took a lot out of me." I was getting good at lying on the fly. "I really need to find a place to meditate."

"Or, how about you get sociable when things are bad, instead of holing up. You see, there's a certain magic in being around people."

"I'll… think on it."

"Best I know I'll get for now." Whoo boy. "So, tell me about your parents."

Huh? "Um… what's there to tell? They always acted like newlyweds, no matter hold long they'd been married. Despite the sacrifices they made for each other, and for us, they never complained once." Father's last words to Mother had been apologizing for leaving too soon. She'd just reassured him that she was happy, and always would be happy.

"And here I thought it would be passionate tale that I could add to my hidden repertoire!" Varric laughed.

"Hidden repertoire? Is that where you hide the story of where Bianca got her name?"

"Yeah, we'll go with that. But Bianca's story is one I'll never tell."

I studied him a moment. "She's named after someone special, isn't she?"

"What makes you say that?" I'd startled him. Huh. Not often that I got the jump on him.

"The way you say the name." I waved it off. "Forget I asked. If it's the story you'll never tell, I'm certainly not going to make you break your word."

"Well, thank you, Hawke." He grinned. "In more seriousness, I was hoping for more material for _Sun's Delight_. I'm starting to run dry, actually."

_Sun's_…? Oh, I knew what this one was. "That's the story Bethany's absolutely enthralled with, isn't it? The one you make sure to not tell when I don't bring her here with me.

"Well, of course I wouldn't tell it when she's not around. I've made it up especially for her. Everyone else is just bonus."

"I wonder why they don't consider running away, though. The couple in that story, I mean."

"That doesn't work." The words were surprisingly sad. "Couples like that don't make it." He smiled, but it looked faked.

"What if I told you a story about one that did?" I found myself offering. Anything to get _that_ fake smile off his face.

"Oh?"

"My parents. Surely you've heard of the gossip by now. It had a resurgence ever since it came out that Mother was back in Kirkwall." I smiled. "But the gossips don't know the details and make up things that don't even make sense. I can tell you _that_ for your story fodder, you're wanting more ideas."

"Hmm, that _does_ sound like a tale." He grin became real. "Sure, lay it on me."

"All right. Oh, but if you tell the story with real names, I won't be protecting you from Mother's wrath."

"Deal."

* * *

I'd just finished the tale of my parents' courtship as I knew it, leaving out an important part that Father made me swear to keep secret, when Varric and I got more company.

"Bird, hello!" Isabela's cheerful words were my only indication that the sudden hug from behind was from her. "About time you took a night off."

"Isabela, leave my sister alone," Carver grumbled from right behind her.

"Oh, how I love the way you say my name, Carver."

"Huh?" He flushed. "Thank you?"

She chuckled. "If you stop breathing every time a woman compliments you, you'll never be awake when the fun starts."

"Er… right. Varric, I'm here for those drinks you promised."

"Yeah, yeah," Varric chuckled. "Sit down, Junior. And is that little Sunshine on your arm?"

"She got nervous on the way over."

"Yeah, but why are you three together, Rivaini? This has to be a story."

"She found him at the Blooming Rose!" Bethany tattled, livid. "Honestly!"

"Were you there to gather information or to awkwardly court one of the girls, Carver?" I asked.

"…A little of both," he mumbled after a moment of staring. "I wasn't buying, though. We can't afford it."

"Well, I know that. I was just curious."

"You do?"

"I have faith that you are taking our talk to heart."

"What talk?" Bethany asked as she took a seat next to me and scooted it a little closer as some men began eyeing her.

"Don't worry about it, Bethany," Carver sighed, taking the chair on her other side. Good, now Bethany would feel perfectly safe, between the two of us. "Just something we should've talked about a while ago."

"Okay?"

"So, you were with Isabela because…?" I asked, trailing off to allow her to fill in the blanks.

"She came to the house looking for you. Carver was with her then."

"I see. And, Isabela, you didn't tattle when Mother was there, right?"

"No, I told Bethany on the way because she asked," Isabela answered. As she took the seat across from me, between Varric and Carver, she continued, "your mother is a sweetheart. Only comment she made about my clothing was if I was cold."

Well, that was Mother for you. Always one to ask about health and help if needed. Made me worry when she went out alone. Some thug could pretend to be hurt and trick her into coming with him. "Mother's way of dealing with things that scandalize her are to give gifts," I explained. "If you explain to her though, she tends to back off."

"Oh, but I love free gifts!" She laughed. "Ah, what a lovely day to spend at the Hanged Man. Had to explain to Fenris why it was called that this morning."

"Hung over, right?" Carver laughed.

"Pretty much. Though I think I had him going with the stringing them up story."

Some loud laughter startled us. "How can people stand it here?" Bethany whined, looking at me. "It's so loud and flilthy." I just shrugged, not wanting to explain the charm behind being in a place with no responsibilities.

"Drink enough, sweetness, and standing becomes the least of your concerns," Isabela pointed out. "Then again, you don't drink."

"Of course not."

"She's never drunk a drop," Carver added. "Father was insistent on it."

"That's because Father always preached discipline," I reminded. "And discipline doesn't include drinking large amounts of alcohol."

"Discipline, discipline! I still dream of those lectures!"

"Discipline, huh?" Varric asked. "Well, I guess that's another reason to not be afraid of you all."

"Dwarves aren't completely immune to magic, Varric," Bethany quietly reminded. "I'm surprised you aren't afraid at all."

"Yeah, but I have at least thirty people in this town alone who'd murder my family over trade deals. Who has time to worry about apostates who _might_ kill you with the Merchant's Guild breathing down your neck?"

"Oh." She paused as she thought of another topic. "Your family used to be noble, right?"

"By some definition of the term."

"Do you ever wonder what your life would've been like?"

"Nah, it's just an expensive lifestyle, which I already have." He shrugged. "Estates, servants, investments, mercenaries, and assassins? I still have all of those. It's wonderfully sunny here and no one calls me lord. I think I can live with that."

"Whatever you say, Lord Varric," I teased.

"Laugh it up, Lady Hawke," he teased right back. "Oh, before I forget, Milady Sunshine, what shall _your_ first act be as a noblewoman?"

"Um… I'm not sure?" Bethany replied, startled. "I mean… we're still quite a long way from it. I guess I'd look for a job with Mother or Carver or Sister."

"Practicality is for peasants. You need to do something frivolous, like complaining at the Hightown Market about there not being any Orlesian silks that match your eyes."

"And what if there _is_ something that matches?" Carver asked. "What then?"

"Insist they're copying and demand royalties, of course!" Varric grinned. "Always have a complaint ready, you two. That's how you act like a noble."

"No wonder Mother ran."

"Why not give advice to Sister?" Bethany asked. "She's likely going to be the one dealing with them." Maker, I hoped not.

"Because Hawke's not the type to listen," Varric immediately deadpanned.

"I'd listen," I protested. "But I doubt I'd remember with everything else I'm keeping track of."

"Like?"

"How much money we have? Do we have enough of Mother's tea? Where Uncle Gamlen disappears to? Is every one of our friends safe and okay?" I shrugged. "That last one takes up a lot of time, considering the antics."

"Fair point. I've already had to bribe the Coterie twice to keep away from Blondie."

"How sweet, Varric."

"Don't tell him. He might fall in love and _that_ would be awkward. I really don't care for humans that way."

"Your secret is safe with me. Just like that ball of twine for Daisy."

"When did you learn about _that_?"

"Merrill was so happy that she'd made it to my house with it. Though she took a really roundabout way to get there and somehow got into a bunch of airing cupboards first."

"That's it. From now on, I'm just going to read your journal. You find out things that I need to know about. The storyteller isn't supposed to be surprised."

"And do what with it?"

"Use it for story material, of course. And, you know, make some tweaks. Don't worry. I'll make sure to write in a different color."

"How kind."

"Oh, speaking of books, Isabela, there was something I wanted to ask you," Bethany began, shifting the conversation. "It's about that book you were reading earlier."

"Which one was this?" Isabela asked. "I was actually going through some today for base material for friend-fiction." Friend-fiction? What was…? Actually, I didn't want to know.

"Hessarian's Spear." Varric poorly disguised a laugh as a cough. "I don't think he had a spear in the legends. There's the sword of mercy, of course, but no spear."

Isabela smiled wickedly. "He does in this one, sweetness."

"What's the description?" Carver asked warily. "I've already got an idea of what the book is, though."

"Hang on, I think I can recite it," Varric said solemnly. Oh, I had a good idea now too. "Andraste knelt before no man but her Maker, but she hadn't counted on the archon Hessarian. Can Hessarian penetrate the tight-knit defenses of the warrior-prophetess? Will she be prepared to face the full blast of his power?"

As Bethany slowly started turning red, Isabela clapped. "Good job, Varric," she praised.

"Storytellers have to have good memories." Still, he did stand up to take a bow, with Carver and I joining in the applause with grins.

"Wait, so it's a vulgar thing?" Bethany squeaked at last. I had to swallow laughter to make sure I didn't hurt her feelings.

"You want to borrow it?" Isabela asked.

"NO!"

"You sure? It has pictures? Very nice and detailed pictures that perfectly showcase some very nice abs and ass and-"

"Not listening! I'm not listening!"

"So, Isabela, you did once captain a ship, right?" Carver quickly asked to take the pressure off of Bethany. "That's a lot of men to handle." Realizing what he said, he added, "for you to command."

"Well, aren't you just adorable," Isabela teased. "Fumbling for a topic."

"You say that like I'm harmless."

"As harmless as a pup that'll someday grow into his _fangs_ and sink them _deep_."

"Sure, keep teasing. I'll show you how much of a pup I am."

"I know." She giggled. "That's why I do it."

"Isabela, can you refrain from flirting with my siblings while I'm here?" I requested with a smile. "You might incite my protective instincts."

"Hmm? Should I flirt with you instead, bird? Because you are looking particularly fine tonight. I just adore the strong types, you know. Almost as much as I love people in uniform."

"I'd think you'd like them out of uniform," I quipped. Strong?

"I… huh."

"I guess life's full of hard choices," Carver snarked, grinning at me

"Plus it's getting back for teasing my cute little brother," I teased, grinning back. He mimed a blow and I laughed. Things were really a lot better since our argument.

"Oh, I just tease Carver because he reminds me of a man I once dueled," Isabela laughed. "He was a little intimidated at first but the quickly _rose_ to the challenge." Oh, Andraste's Grace, Isabela! I was going to die laughing at this rate!

"He looked like me?" Carver asked.

"Oh, yes." She smiled teasingly. Whoo boy. "It went on all night, under the stars, with the waves lapping at our ankles."

"On the beach? In the surf? That sounds like bad footing." Now to decide if he was playing along or seriously didn't get it.

"Oh, it was. There was quite a bit of tumbling around and by the time we were done, we were soaked and sore."

"Did you win?" Bethany asked. I knew she hadn't gotten it at all and had to bite back a laugh.

"I managed to get on top in the end, but I consider it a tie."

"Why is it always about sex with you?" Carver sighed. Bethany squeaked as she realized that Isabela had, once again, used innuendo. I was going to start worrying about her at this rate. She couldn't depend on me forever. She'd come to hate herself for it.

"It's not," Isabela laughed. "Sometimes it's about sex with other people."

"But it comes up every single time."

"We're just talking. If it comes up, it's not necessarily my fault."

"What? I mean… that's not what I meant. It isn't!" Carver huffed. "I hate you so much. You've got to be the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you _have_ heard of me," Isabela pointed out with a teasing grin.

"Wasn't there some saying about it's better to be the best, not the best known?" I asked innocently.

"That was a thief. I'm a pirate."

"Without a ship," Carver added.

"For now. I'm working on it."

"Isabela, what _did_ you do before becoming a pirate?" Bethany asked. "Maybe you can go back to it until you have a ship again."

"Well, I had a husband," Isabela answered. I nearly choked on my drink. Carver started coughing as he poorly tried to hide his laughter. Varric didn't even bother to hide his. "Yes, yes, laugh it up. He never really beat me, and that's the best I can say."

Bethany was the only one not laughing. "So you left him?"

"I had him murdered by my assassin lover. It was very Antivan of me. I wonder how Zevran's doing these days. Last that I saw, he was trying to woo the Hero of Fereldan."

"Wait, you had a husband _and_ a lover?" Bethany, it wasn't _that_ uncommon. Of course, the Fereldan way of dealing with affairs was to keep it discreet and not hide it from the spouse. "So, you've been with many people?"

"You name it. Men and women. Elves and dwarves. By the way, _don't_ have sex with a dwarf in drag. Not my recommendation at all."

"Oh." Bethany flushed bright red. "I see."

"Why? How many have you had?"

"I… I've never… I mean, _Carver_ has, but not me."

This time I really did choke on my drink. "Carver!" I yelped after a moment.

"Nothing came of it," Carver muttered. "Ostagar happened soon after and it's not like we'll go back."

"You were safe, right?"

"Yes, sister."

"Okay. Right, then." Well, there was my heart attack of the year.

"Well, since we're sharing…" Isabela began. "Hawke? You?"

"None," I answered, getting my breathing back under control. Hopefully the girl wouldn't write. Mother was a bad habit of reading our letters and that would just make her flip.

Her jaw dropped. "What? Really? Not only holding out on your sister, but on yourself? We need to get you both a night at the Blooming Rose. I'll pay!"

"I'm afraid, Isabela, that I always had some more important things to do, and still have to do them."

"Nah, Sister needs some time to herself for once," Carver dismissed. "You haven't even dated."

"That's because I was too busy yelling at the villagers for being squirmy when I tried to give them medicine."

"Still. Blooming Rose," Isabela repeated. She was getting fixated. "I will pay for it, so no protesting over money."

"Oh, Maker, this is embarrassing," Bethany whined as she buried her burning face into my shoulder. "I don't want to go."

"Then don't," I whispered. "I'm certainly not going to make you."

"Anyway, Varric, how do you put up with Bartrand?" Carver asked to change the subject and give Bethany time to compose herself. "You've promised to tell me how you put up with that arrogant ass during our last set of drinks."

"With a lot of patience?" I answered for Varric, grateful for the subject change. But the answer seemed obvious.

"Well, that and it's not like it's all that hard anyway," Varric added. "He's my brother." Carver rolled his eyes, but Varric grinned. "So, I've got blackmail material for _life_. At any point in time, I can launch into a story about how he wet himself at a grand ball."

"Okay, I'd pay to hear that," Carver laughed.

"Here, I'll tell it now, absolutely free." As Varric launched into the hilarious tale, I calmly sipped my water, encouraged Bethany to get her face out of my shoulder, and smiled more in a few hours than I had in the past week.

Good day. Very good day.

* * *

Author's note – Nothing much. Just some Hawke and Varric talk with the twins and Isabela sneaking in at the end because… I could? Made a note about Bethany's own issues a little clearer. Well, somewhat. Haha… But now we have an explanation for quest names! Varric's titles for the stories he tells!

The things about Bianca and couples who run not making it… well, they come from info from Until We Sleep. ^^

Hawke's visions, for the record, aren't going to show up much. They're mostly here to give Inquisition foreshadowing, to serve as convenient plot devices, and to give a reason for why Bethany is so sensitive to the Darkspawn Nightmares if she's made a Warden. Basically, they'll function like Agrona's Farsight.

A good chunk of this is party banter at its finest. I just combined a lot of them for this chapter, as a lot of them bounced off each other VERY easily. Not a lot of Varric-Carver banter, due to me implying that they've been talking outside of Hawke's hearing. This is, again, going into my differing characterizations of the twins.

Next Chapter – The Mysterious Woman.


	17. Chapter 16) The Mysterious Woman

**Kirkwall – Lowtown, Wounded Coast, and Hightown – 9:31**

_The Mysterious Woman_

* * *

"_So, there were days where she just hung out?" the Seeker asks._

"_Believe it or not, yes," the dwarf answers with some exasperation. "Anything else you have a question about or can I get into the job that paid the best?"_

"_No, continue. I'll think of one later."_

"_Goodie. I'm just waiting in anticipation."_

* * *

"Pardon, but are you Althea Hawke?" What had started as a lazy day wandering about the market with Aveline suddenly turned strange at those words. The speaker was a woman with a _heavy_ Orlesian accent. I couldn't see her face due to the hooded cloak she wore, but it and her clothes were of very high quality despite their appearance of practicality. An Orlesian noble?

"I am," I replied as I turned to face her. Aveline was busy looking at the prices for some spices. "Why?"

"Ah, magnifique!" She clapped her hands in delight and gave me a warm smile. I noticed that she was very tall, just a little bit shorter than Anders in fact, and carried a dagger with a red hilt on her belt, right next to a pack that showed some heavy wear. "I have heard many things about you. You are skilled, yet quiet, correct?"

"I try to be. You have a job?"

"Yes, if you do not mind. You see; there was a messenger that was supposed to meet me one week ago here in Kirkwall. Ah, no, rather, I was supposed to meet him." She smiled sheepishly. "My apologies. My grasp on this language is not very good at times."

"No worries. So, he was supposed to be here ahead of you?"

"Oui. Yet he is not. My worry is that he has been ambushed while traveling along the Wounded Coast. He was carrying very important letters."

"You need me to find him and see about fetching them?"

"Yes. I will pay you for information on him, and extra if you have information on where the messages are." Interesting. Still…

"Do you know what sort of trouble he ran into?"

"I would guess either bandits or Tal-Vashoth." …Strange, did she just pronounce that last word in a different accent? It _almost_ sounded like how the Qunari talked to each other. "Nothing too dangerous, particularly of your skill." Her smile turned embarrassed. "I would go myself, in fact, if not for the fact my husband is overprotective. I have promised to not do anything but rest, due to my condition."

Condition? Curious, I studied her closely. Her clothes were very loose, particularly around her hips. What bits I could see of her face showed signs of roundness. She also seemed to be slightly out of breath simply by standing. Normally when I'd seen those signs, it meant… "You're pregnant?"

"Oui." She smiled incredibly sweetly at that. "Four months along, roughly. If I had been more, my husband would not let me out of his sight. Overprotective man, he is."

"Well, I don't see any problems with this job," I told her. In fact, it almost seemed _too_ easy. "Wounded Coast, you said?"

"Correct." She pulled out some paper from the pack at her hip and scribbled something on it. "This is where I am staying. Please, report here when you have the information."

"Yeah, no problem." As I took the paper, I noted that it was an Orlesian estate in Hightown. Fitting. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Merci beaucoup."

* * *

"Okay, Hawke, here's where you explain to me your reasons for your party," Varric said as we stepped onto the Wounded Coast. True to his word, he'd been going into my house to read my journal and, thus, had learned of my habit of specifically picking certain friends for certain jobs for certain reasons.

"You're here if we need to bullshit our way out of trouble, Aveline's here in case all of this happens to be illegal, and Anders is here when things go horribly wrong," I answered easily. Aveline was also here because she'd been eavesdropping and had seemed rather adamant at helping the mysterious pregnant woman.

"And you also made sure the two of them were together so that you could bitch out Anders where Aveline could watch, but not his patients."

"No one mocks Wesley. _Especially_ in front of Aveline."

"Noted."

That said, once it was over and done with, Aveline and Anders seemed to get along well enough. At least, it was nowhere near the animosity that Anders and Fenris had, or even what Aveline and Isabela had. Thank the Maker.

"Hawke, we need to watch ourselves," Aveline called up right then. She was doing rear guard. "Having a guard here won't help much."

"Yeah, but if it's illegal, it'll be a lot quicker to have one about!" I shouted back with a smile.

"How kind of you, Hawke."

"So far, though, this has been boring," Varric sighed. "Oh, hey, Anders, are those feathered pauldrons an essential part of the moody rebel mage persona?"

"The what?" Anders asked before realizing. "I wouldn't say so. These types of robes are better able to handle stains than the standard robes, so I opted for them when I discovered not only was I best at healing, but I liked it a lot. Why?"

"Thinking of writing something about a hopelessly romantic apostate waging an epic struggle against forces he can't possibly defeat. Need to get the details right."

"Can't possibly defeat?"

"Well, it's not a good story unless the hero dies."

"Strange. I've heard a lot that were good stories. That tale you're doing about the Blight, for instance."

"That's history, which is technically separate."

"Sure, let's joke about tragedy. That's always fun."

"You want jokes? Here's one. A human, an elf, and a dwarf walk into a bar and-"

"The human says, 'you're lucky you're so short. That hurt like mad!'."

"Did you have to deliver the punch line?"

"Why waste a good set-up?"

"So, you've heard it, then?"

"No, but jokes like that tend to involve something about the dwarf being short. Well, that or drunk."

"You could've let me finish anyway. I don't like this place. Sooner we're in Kirkwall the better."

"You don't like the sea air?" I asked Varric teasingly. "But it's so lovely."

"Dwarves make some lousing swimmers," he informed me with great dignity. "And I'm a city boy at heart."

"Maybe it's the name. 'Wounded' coast. If it was different, it would be much lovelier."

"Like pie?" Anders suggested dryly. "Pie Coast? Hey, that's actually not all that bad."

"Honestly, can we try to be serious?" Aveline sighed. She was trying to suppress a smile, probably to not encourage our antics.

Varric got a sudden gleam in his eye. Uh oh. He was going to try and tease Aveline, wasn't he? This was going to be funny. "Hey, Aveline, I've been dying to know," Varric began. "What do you do?"

"I'm a guard," she answered slowly, frowning. "You know that."

"I mean when you're off-duty. What do you do then?"

"I _am_ off-duty."

Varric stared. "Well, the trend of you scaring the piss out of me continues," he muttered after a moment.

"She also cooks delightful Fereldan food," I added as I laughed. "Absolutely delicious."

"Leandra's been begging recipes," Aveline mumbled, smiling slightly. I think she was pretty proud of her cooking abilities, despite thinking that they weren't all that great. "She says she'll show me some of hers."

"Let's not talk about food," Anders sighed. "I'm starving."

"You should've eaten before you came here."

"I did. But… well, Wardens have big appetites. Wardens have higher than normal metabolisms. It's a result of the Joining. Even though I'm not one of them anymore, I still have a lot of the traits."

"So, how much are you getting?"

"Uh… I get enough for three meals, but my normal was eating about seven or eight."

"You're only getting _half_ that you need?"

"I think I _need_ only three. I just want more. There's a difference." He shrugged. "Hey, I've been meaning to lose weight anyway. It's bad for a mage to get flabby."

"Anders, see that gleam in Aveline's eyes?" I asked. "That means that not only is she going to make sure you get food, but she's going to tell Mother too." I pointed at Varric who was trying to hide a frown. "Same for him."

"So _that's_ what those gleams mean. Good to know!"

"Varric, do _you_ do anything?" Aveline asked, turning the conversation off of food and her plotting. "You watch and you talk."

"Oh, yes," Varric replied, easily seizing the change. Anders and I exchanged an amused look. They were both such softies, even if they didn't want to admit it. "But don't dismiss the hallmarks of both the utterly ineffectual and the incredibly dangerous. Coins flow when I talk and when I shut up. Like if you got paid to guard or unguard."

"That makes no sense!"

"Good."

"He's an information broker, Aveline," Anders 'translated'. "It's technically legal, I promise."

"Okay, Blondie, how do you know that?"

"You think the Wardens don't use spies?"

"Maybe I could put you to use for something other than giving me tips on how to talk with authority," Aveline murmured. I wasn't sure if she'd been paying attention to Anders explanation. "Pen some warnings for the lawless."

"Sounds like pacifying the nobles," Varric pointed out. "Most criminals aren't big readers."

"Pictures, then. It was just a thought."

"How about a giant sign that just says 'don't'? You could hit people with it!"

"Varric, be nice," I laughed. "Though, Aveline, I don't think they'll look at pretty pictures for it. Action is what it takes."

"Yes, you're right," Aveline replied. "I was just thinking of ways to weed out the smart ones who are just desperate. Oh, wait, that reminds me. Anders, I've been hearing some good things about you." …I was very curious as to how she'd made _that_ mental leap in conversation topics."Honestly, it wasn't what I was expecting."

"From a mage?" Anders asked sarcastically.

"I think Hawke would be a better example of that."

"Point." Huh? Was it because I did my best to keep quiet, unlike Anders? "But how else would you judge me?"

"A Fereldan in Darktown?"

"…Okay, point. Sorry, I'm not used to being judged like that."

"I attempt to judge all equally. Fair laws to everyone."

"I'd really like to see that."

"It's a long process. But you're helping, since the crime rate of the desperate isn't nearly as high as it was before you set up shop." Ah, there was the leap. Desperate crimes going down.

"Well, thanks." Anders seemed a little uncomfortable and, so, changed the subject. "Hey, Aveline, do you ever miss Fereldan?"

"Of course!" Aveline _immediately_ replied. "It was home. If things hadn't been so bad, I never would have left." …Maybe we should've helped her find a place to stay in Gwaren before we got on the ship… "Or, if I'd known the Blight was going to end in a year. At the time, I was certain Fereldan would've been swallowed up. Thankfully, Leandra had no problems lying to the ship captain about me being her niece." Haha, that had been actually fun to watch. Normally, Father was the one who had to spin lies, but being the wife and mother of mages led to Mother being pretty good at it. "However, I'm not going to be my father and live in a memory. I have a life here, a good one, and I intend to make use of it. Why?"

"I didn't think I'd give it a second thought when I was gone. I mean; I was certain I'd miss some of the people I'd met. Solana, Alim, and Jowan from the Tower. Nathaniel, Velanna, Sigrun, and Oghren from the Wardens. Serenity and Commander. Even the First Enchanter and Wynne. But the place?" He shrugged. "Fereldan never really did anything for me. I wasn't born there. It was just where I was dragged to, from the Anderfels at that, and caged."

"But you do miss it?"

"A lot, actually. I always think there's something missing here."

"Let me guess. About how mages are treated?"

"No, I think it's the lack of dog shit."

"Point. There's an awful lot of shit all over the place, but few of it dog."

"So, Blondie, you're from the Anderfels?" Varric asked, changing topics yet again. "And you're called 'Anders'? Really?"

"That's not my real name," Anders laughed. "My real name was really hard for people in the Tower to pronounce. Solana kept getting so upset about mispronouncing it that I told her she could give me a nickname. She asked if 'Anders' would be okay and I agreed to it. Within the year, everyone was calling me that." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh. Not sure if I can pronounce my birth name myself anymore. I know what it is, thanks to the embroidered pillow my mother gave me, but I think I'll mangle the syllables somewhere."

"Complicated pronunciation?"

"It was some typical Anders name with connotations of strength and religion. Of course it was complicated."

"Oh, right. The Anderfels are famous for hardened warriors and fanatical believers. And art. The Merchants Guild makes a killing off Anders statues. Of course, that's mostly because the Guild pockets most of the money."

"That's horrible," I protested. "The artist deserves it far more."

"Remember what I told you about them, Hawke?"

Right… "Maybe someone should teach them some manners and morals."

"If you or Aveline do that, please let me watch. I'll get a good laugh at you two intimidating them."

"Hawke, there's a body up ahead," Aveline suddenly said, killing the good mood. She pointed to the body of someone wearing silver and blue messenger clothes. There was a single arrow dangling from his hand. It was covered in blood.

As I approached, I noticed the shirt was also bloodstained, too much so. "He's dead," I whispered as I carefully knelt down beside him. "Looks like he bled out from a wound." There was a single hole in his shirt, not far from his heart. Death hadn't been instant, but he hadn't suffered long.

"There are some bodies up here," Varric called. He'd gone up ahead, on the other side of the hill. "I'm not sure what sort of dagger causes wounds like these."

"That's because it wasn't a dagger," Anders corrected. He'd gone up ahead with Varric. Aveline had stayed back with me to investigate the corpse. "Those wounds are caused when someone uses an arrow like a dagger. Nathaniel would do that when a darkspawn got too close and he didn't have time to get the dagger in his boot."

"So, did he use the arrow that killed him as a weapon to kill his killers?" Aveline asked softly. "What was so important?"

"He also made sure to hide his pack behind him, so I think whatever was in them," I pointed out, reaching behind him into the thorny shrubs to tug the pack forward, earning a few scratches in the process. "Looks undisturbed."

"And like Anders's." Strange, as Anders had once told me his pack was from the Wardens. "How did they get him is the now question."

I was about to shrug when I heard Anders yelp and the sounds of a fall. "Anders? Varric?" I called. They were out of sight and no reply came. "Hey!"

"Hawke, Blondie might need some assistance," Varric yelled back after a moment more. "We found an area that's not on the map!" Huh?

Aveline and I jogged up and stepped through a small bit of foliage to find Varric holding Anders's pack at the edge of a small drop-off. A peek down revealed Anders glaring in the middle of a small yet cozy camp. "Great job finding the secret camp," I told him, setting down the messenger's bag. Varric put Anders's down beside it. "We got our answer as to how."

"I'm so glad to have been of assistance," Anders grumbled. "Can someone help me up? My fall knocked out the thing they used to climb up."

"Here," Aveline said, reaching down. She easily hefted him up when he grabbed hold. "Anders, you're too light."

"We've gone through this. I've been eating lightly." Anders brushed himself off. "Also, Varric, thanks ever so much for saving my pack. It's definitely more important than me."

"Glad you think so too, Blondie," Varric cracked. "Hawke, what happened to your hands?"

"That was a bad attempt to change the subject."

"Can't be good all days."

"Just some thorn bites," I dismissed. I'd even forgotten about them. "Not even worth a bandage."

"There are some health potions in my bag," Anders told me. "Drink some just in case some infection managed to get in."

"Right." …Except that Aveline was right in that the two packs looked ridiculously similar. Time to take a guess.

I reached into one at random and pulled out a small bottle. Smaller than what I'd expect, but Anders likely didn't have lots of choices when it came to what he stored things in. Regardless, I opened it up and checked the liquid inside. Same color, and scent, as a health potion. Must be it.

"Ah, Hawke, wait!" Anders yelped. Too late as I had already taken a sip of the bottle and felt a strange pulse of power. "You pulled from the wrong bag. Mine has had to be repaired a lot."

…Oh, damn it. "Well, I seem to feel fine," I answered slowly. I carefully used my magic to check myself over. "Yes, nothing wrong." Save for that brief surge of power that had already dissipated. Had I just imagined it? "Just that I might've stolen something by accident." Shouldn't be bad.

Anders opened up the messenger's bag to show that there were five more identical bottles. "There are extras. Just explain."

"Right." Hopefully, that woman wouldn't mind that I'd stolen a strange health potion from her dead messenger's bag.

"There's some good news, Hawke," Aveline called as she pulled something else out from the bag. It had been hidden by a small piece of cloth. "I think these are the letters she was talking about." And considering how they were tied together with a ribbon that didn't look like it had been disturbed, there was a good chance of all of them being there. Splendid.

All of us started, however, when Anders sharply sucked in a breath and ripped the papers from Aveline's hands to study them more closely. "This is the personal seal of Commander," he yelped as Aveline muttered about it being a good thing she was wearing gauntlets.

"How can you tell, Blondie?" Varric asked as I tried to process what he'd just said. Commander? Commander of what?

"A wolf crossed with the Warden Griffon. It's Commander Agrona's, no doubt about that." Oh, great. Wardens. Actual Wardens. Father had always said to be careful around Wardens in active duty. He'd respected them, but had developed a dislike due to that incident.

"Well, I guess we're about to find out why that woman wants it," I noted with a sigh. "Let's go report."

* * *

"Wait, so she's staying here?" Varric asked after whistling softly. We were slowly approaching the grand estate located towards the back part of Hightown. It was even grander than the Viscount's Keep. "I know of the nobles who own the place. They have some favor with the Empress, even though they don't play the Game that much."

"Why's that?" I asked, even as I wondered what 'the game' was.

"See, their family was placed in charge of some high-ranked area during the Fereldan occupation and their son was a good, honorable man." Oh? "He married the daughter of the family that used to rule the land, in fact." How awkward was _that_? "But when the Rebellion started winning battles, there was some suspicion of traitors and the son ended up being at the top of the list." Uh oh. "Everyone from the elder to the child was slaughtered by the chevaliers."

"That's disgusting." The messenger's bag started to slide off my shoulder, but I caught it before it did. "Absolutely disgusting."

"Meghren, from what I've heard, was an absolutely disgusting bastard of a nug." He shook his head and palmed Bianca. "Okay, this is as close as I go. If things get iffy, I'll shoot and then we'll run to Aveline in the Keep." Anders was in Darktown, just in case I was dealing with a 'proper' Warden. He _really_ didn't want to go back.

Taking a deep breath to keep calm, I walked up to the estate and knocked on the door. "It's Hawke," I called, wondering if that was what I was supposed to do.

"Ah, marvelous, you are here!" I heard her greet before the door was even all the way open. She was still wearing her hooded cloak, despite having come from _inside a house_. "Was there any trouble?"

"Not for us," I told her. "Some bandits had set up camp in a hidden area not on the map. Your messenger must've been ambushed. He killed all the bandits before passing, though.

"Ah, I see." She looked rather sad. "My poor messenger. Was his body there?"

"Yes. It's in custody of the Guard for a mild investigation." Aveline insisted on protocol. "I'm sure you can have him back in a bit."

"Ah, good. I owe it to him." She smiled slightly. "Were the papers there?"

"Yeah." I handed over the messenger's bag. "They should still be in here. Everything in order?"

"Let us see?" She quietly counted them. "Yes, all are here…?" She frowned at something, but shook her head and turned to place the bag on something. I guessed a small table situated near the door for convenience.

I took advantage of this to ask the question that had bothered us as nonchalantly as possible. "So, why do these papers have the seal of the Hero of Fereldan?"

"Oh, I did not know that you would recognize it!" the woman laughed without even a pause of surprise. "My apologies for not telling you." She turned to face me again, smiling warmly. "I was not certain if she used that seal or not."

"It's no problem." Except my question wasn't being answered. "So?"

"I am an ally of Agrona." Calling the Warden-Commander of Fereldan by name? It was still hard to believe the little elf I'd met back in Lothering had climbed so high, but this woman was also of some sort of high rank if she was getting away with first-name basis. "Was there anything else you needed to tell me?"

No? Oh, wait, yes, there was. "I… uh… accidentally drank one of the bottles, thinking it was a health potion," I admitted sheepishly. I _had_ to tell, after all. "Sorry."

"It is fine, though I am glad you told me. I was certain there was supposed to be six. I trust there were no side effects?"

"Well…" Actually, I should probably mention what I thought I felt, just in case. "I felt a pulse of power after drinking it. Was that normal?"

The woman suddenly frowned. "Strange. These are to increase the power that has already been awakened in the blood." What? "Wardens gain power through blood, thus it is a method to strengthen them. To feel that pulse of power would mean that you, too, have the power of blood." Uh oh. "Since you are not a Warden, you must be a blood mage, then." Oh, you have got to be kidding me. I did my best to hide and one mistake like _that_ got me outed by a stranger? Okay, what to do? What to do? "You served as a healer in Lothering, yes?"

"I… yes." Why was she asking?

"What a strange combination." She reached over and tipped my head back so that she could look me in the eyes. As she tilted her head to the side, her hood slipped back slightly, revealing vibrant-red hair and silver-blue eyes. "Blood magic of destruction, yet the healing magic of creation. You are both destroyer and savior, killer and defender. A balance." She giggled slightly. "A balanced hawk, how cute." Her eyes suddenly sparked with recognition and the gleam was absolutely terrifying in a way I'd never experienced. Was this what people thought thirty years ago when the dragons first appeared? What about a year ago when the darkspawn first appeared on the surface? "A hawk who balances both light and dark. I see. This now makes more sense." Glad it was for someone. "How interesting that I met you now. I certainly wasn't expecting it." She stepped back and I made myself take a breath. "A word of advice then, Lady Hawke. I don't think the path you're currently on will be kind to you and, like Agrona and me, I don't think you have a choice to choose another one. However, when everything falls apart, do your best gather the courage to fly above it." Okay, that was similar to what Flemeth had said. I'd been trying to _not_ think of that, damn it. "Thedas is about to fall apart, I think. Wait for it and then rise above the chaos."

"How about stopping it, instead?" I demanded.

"Some things can't be stopped. Especially when the ones who could stop it have long since decided to turn into that which they hate." She smiled sardonically. "'Magic must serve man and never rule over it.' Words of wisdom from Andraste have turned into a hated chain that will drag everything into war. I am one who must set up my pieces appropriately to ride it out. I will never be someone who'll protect everyone, except by chance. But you can, can't you?" Was that advice or was that her begging? "Hawk, the predator that watches from the skies. You can do what Agrona and I can't, right? You can minimize the damages here. I know it." What was this? And did her accent just disappear? She wasn't sounding nearly as formal, and there were only traces…? "But I digress. I owe you payment, not advice and hopes. My deepest pardon."

And the accent was suddenly back. Did I just imagine it disappearing? Surely it couldn't have fixed itself that fast. "Ah, yes."

"Quite." She smiled again and it was perfectly sweet. Who or what was this lady? "I think this should cover it, yes?" She pushed some amount of coins into my hand. "Merci again."

"Right."

"Also, though it is not what I owed you, I hope you will remember what I've said. The game of chess the world has been playing has reached the endgame. Thedas is losing."

It wasn't until she'd disappeared back into the house that I had the courage to look at what she'd paid me. Seven gold sovereigns glittered in my palm. That woman had given me the most money for any job… and potentially more troublesome advice than Flemeth. She hadn't even reacted to me being a blood mage. Who was she? Why did she ask for those papers? Why did she think, like Flemeth, that I'd never have the quiet life I want for my family?

Argh, screw these thoughts. I was going to take Varric's advice and socialize instead of meditating. We'd see if I really would feel better after doing that.

* * *

Author's note – You get three guesses for who the cloaked woman is. ^^ This is based off of The Dark Epiphany quest, which you get if you transferred in a game that had completed the Warden Keep DLC and chose to keep Avernus alive. It yields a potion that gets you one or two attribute points. I have obviously changed it about to have a bit of fun. In fact, this chapter is entirely just for fun. I didn't really need it, but I wanted to cameo this woman here, and have her add on to the foreshadowing introduced by Flemeth AND to show that Hawke is taking the advice given to her. ^^

To 'Guest' who reviewed last chapter anonymously, the last chapter was the 'fifteenth' chapter in the story (with the story starting with a chapter 'zero' aka a prologue) and it is a break chapter that took place solely at the Hanged Man. I am confused about why the chapter title would be confusing.

Next Chapter – Hawke decides to deal with all this foreshadowing by working at Anders's infirmary! Yes, it's a break chapter. There are at least two more after this one too.


	18. Chapter 17) At the Clinic

**Kirkwall – Darktown – 9:31**

_At the Clinic_

* * *

"_Wait, so was that…?"_

"_No, Seeker."_

"_No, what, dwarf?"_

"_Just no."_

"_No, it wasn't here or no, you're not telling me."_

"_Yes."_

"…_Infuriating dwarf."_

"_And just to rub it in your face, I'm going to go on another tangent."_

"_Maker, why did no one drown you?"_

"_I'm charming."_

* * *

"Bird, if those two weren't siblings, I'd swear that they were an old married couple," Isabela informed me as she sat on one of the bed at Anders's Clinic.

"Married people can get their relation annulled," I pointed out as I tugged a sheet off a different bed and tossed it to the side to be washed.

"True." She smiled in amusement as the twins' argument by the entrance grew louder. "What are they arguing about again?"

"Cleaning methods."

"I see."

Anders had asked if I'd mind helping him clean up his Clinic, since the stream of patients had finally settled down enough to let him do that simple task without feeling guilty. The Clinic was, of course, open in case of emergency, but overall, it was just a day to make sure that the place wasn't dangerous to the patients. Carver and Bethany had volunteered to help out, likely because it's something similar to what they did for Father and me back in Lothering. As for Isabela, she'd been here to ask Anders for something, and was staying for the entertainment value.

"I can't believe the Queen of Fereldan was here!" Bethany suddenly started squealing. Either she'd given up on arguing or her giddiness just caught up to her again. Carver certainly looked startled at the abrupt end to their argument. "A shame we couldn't see her. I've heard she's so pretty!"

"Yes, she is," Anders confirmed absently as he finished taking inventory. We'd have to return the things to the shelves soon, since Carver had finished wiping most of them down. "What she was doing here instead of a diplomat is my question."

"Something about working out trade agreements," Carver answered, going back to dusting the shelf he'd been working on. Bethany swept the floor next to him, still smiling.

"'Instead of a diplomat' was the key part of my sentence."

"A show of trust of the skill of Kirkwall's Guard and a show of how much they value trade with Kirkwall," I answered, pulling off the last bed's sheet. Aveline had told me that. She'd seemed rather proud of the fact that Fereldan's Queen had viewed the place safe enough to visit personally. "Done here. Are we washing today?"

"I'll take them in a second, Hawke," Anders said. "I've got barrels in the back."

"All right. But yeah, those are the reasons I've heard. Varric might've heard more."

"Speaking of Varric, did you ever figure out who that woman was?"

"Nope," I answered with an annoyed growl. Varric had hunted all over the place, but whoever that mysterious woman had been, she'd covered her tracks very well. The fact that the owners of the estate frequently lent out the estate to various people and their friends didn't help at all. "All I know is that she had vibrant-red hair, silver-blue eyes, and talked about things like they were chess." Anders suddenly started coughing. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just got startled." He cleared his throat a few times. "So _that's_ what she's up to. Wonder what else she's been doing."

Huh? "Wait, you _know _her?"

"I've a guess."

"Well, who is it?"

"I'm not telling."

"Why not?"

"You'll yelp and break something."

"I will not. I'm careful."

"No."

"What? Do you not like this woman?"

"No, I adore her. I just know that if you find out, you'll yelp and likely break something."

"Fine, be stubborn. How do you know her?"

"She was there when I joined the Wardens." Okay, good, she really _was_ an ally of them. I might be wary of them, but I knew how important they were. "She also killed a templar that tried to defy the law and capture me. Snapped a neck with her bare hands." …She didn't look nearly muscled enough for that, though maybe that was the pregnancy? Not being able to work out would cause some muscles to become less toned, after all. "Now, in the interests of continuing to conveniently not answer your question, Carver? Since you're almost done with the shelves, you mind helping me with these sheets?"

"Fine, fine," Carver growled, grabbing one of the piles of cloth and heading to the back. …I probably should've warned Anders that Carver was at his surliest when doing chores he didn't like, and Carver really didn't like doing laundry.

"He could've just said 'no'," Anders sighed, taking the other pile to the back.

"Five silvers they try to kill each other?" Isabela offered as soon as they disappeared.

"Ten silver that if they try, I'm getting them both?" I returned innocently.

"Ooo, I _would_ pay to see that. Think you can tie up Anders?"

"Not my style."

"Well, there goes the idea of tying you to the mainsail."

"You've thought about tying me?"

"What? It's fun practicing knots and making people squirm. It's how I show affection."

"Right…" There was a knock on the door to the Clinic. "It's open. What's your ailment?"

"Well, I figured you all would be actually be suffering from grumbling bellies by this point," the person giggled as she opened the door. "So I thought to try and remedy that." What the-?!

"Mother, what are you doing here?" I yelped, rushing to the entrance. "You didn't come alone, did you?"

"Dear, I'm fine," she laughed off. She looked far too pleased with herself as she stepped inside with a cloth covered basket. "Aveline let me inside the old estate so that I could use the passage through the cellar here. I was perfectly fine. Not sure if I can go back up that way, though."

"And you made it to there without problems?"

"Yes, dear, I'm fine. There are few places safer to walk than between Hightown and Lowtown." The day I accepted that was the day someone died. "Anyway, I'm here because Gamlen's birthday is coming up, so I'm trying a few recipes out to make him something special for it." She held up the basket she was holding. Whatever was hidden in it smelled delicious. "I figured the best way to figure out if this is good or not would be to find my traditional taste testers."

"You mind if a not-so traditional taste tester taste test?" Isabela asked, somehow not tripping up on the alliteration. "Because I can smell them from here and it is delicious."

"Of course. I brought some for Anders to try as well. Aveline told me he hasn't been getting enough to eat." She opened the cloth to reveal pastries. "These are fruit filled. Here, come and try one."

"Well, all right." Isabela got up to take one of them. "Wow, it's almost too pretty to eat."

"Well, they're made to be eaten. Also, Isabela, winters are really cold around here. Would you like me to make you a coat for them?"

"I… sure." She sounded awkwardly touched. "That sounds nice."

"I'll see about getting something blue to match your bandana. It's quite lovely."

"I'm going to get Carver and Anders," I told Mother as Bethany crept up for her share and to ask for cleaning tips. "Make sure they don't steal our shares!" I quickly made my way to the back room where Carver and Anders had disappeared to. They'd been there far too long, so I was certain there was _some_ kind of argument going on.

"Look, can you cut out on the 'I hate you' glares?" Anders was sighing as I crept closer. Oh dear. "You've got quite the chip on your shoulder."

"I normally have a big blade with it, magey," Carver growled in response.

"Must be compensating for _something_ with that." You know; for how patient Anders was to his patients, he sure didn't leave much to spare for others. Then again, Carver was at his worst around him and Fenris. "I guess the chip moved to your head to make room for it. And here I thought Velanna was bad."

"Oh, shove it."

"It's bad to hate someone for being a mage, you know."

"I don't hate _mages_. I hate that _you_ can't shut up about it and I hate _magic_." Huh? "You're right about one thing as much as admitting it makes me sick. I _do_ know more about your so-called 'plight' than most non-mages would. I've grown up with it. I've lived with the fear that templars would come up and steal my father and sisters away. And for what? _Magic_. Maker damned magic! Because they were born with it. And what has magic done for them? Make them terrified, that's what. I can't speak for Father or Sister, but I know Bethany's scared of it and wishes she didn't have it because she's so tired of running. With Father gone, she clings to Sister and me because she doesn't feel safe otherwise, and she wouldn't have to worry about that at all if she didn't have _magic_. So, sod off. If I hated mages, I'd hate my _family_. Despite what you all might think, that's not the case at all. They're more important to me than _anything_."

I found myself smiling. I didn't know why. I just felt like smiling. "Carver?" I called, pretending to have not overheard anything. "You still back there?"

"Yeah, why?" Carver appeared next to me. He was flushing slightly, but it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or rage.

"You mind walking Mother back home?"

"Sure. Wait, _Mother's_ here?"

"Yeah, with some snacks she made for us." I pointed at the entrance where she was fending off Isabela's attempts to steal more. "You can eat your share on the way home."

"Yeah, no problem. Please don't tell me she walked all the way down here on her own."

"She snuck into the Amell Estate with Aveline's help and then came down through the cellar."

"I'm still confused as to how she knew that was there."

"She snuck down here to meet Father when he snuck out of the Gallows."

"Oh. Wait, how do you know that?"

"I'm older, so I've had more time to ask about such things." I smiled and ruffled his hair.

He made a face. "What's that for?"

"I felt like it. I'm proud of you."

"For what? Not killing Anders?"

"For taking time to explain why things are bothering you. I've been hearing stories."

"Oh." He flushed, but smiled. "Well, I'm not doing a good job. But thanks. Anyway, food!" He rushed over to Mother, demanding his share.

Anders came out of the back room soon after with a thoughtful look on his face. "Something wrong?" I asked him, still pretending I hadn't overheard anything.

"Just curious as to what caused him to grow up a little bit," he replied. "No matter. Back to the shelves."

"How about food instead? Mother brought snacks."

"…Have I mentioned how much I adore your mother? Because I think she's my favorite person ever."

"What? For bringing you food?"

"That and marrying an apostate and raising mage children." A dark look passed over his face. "Most non-mage parents sell out their children, you see. Think of them as some sort of monster. I know mages who would've killed to have even one loving parent growing up, much less two."

"It's been hard life."

"Yet it doesn't seem to have dampened your mother at all. I admire her strength and stubbornness and kindness."

"I'm sure she'd love to hear that. For now, though, how about you find out what a lovely cook she is? Because she is, and I'm totally _not_ biased for her."

"Right!" he laughed. "Mrs. Hawke? Any left?"

"Plenty for both you and Althea," Mother reassured with a smile. "I made sure your share was larger. I know how mages have to eat more than others to keep up with the energy magic burns, and Aveline mentioned that you had an exceptional appetite even for that."

"Seriously, you are my favorite person in Thedas." He promptly devoured one of the pastries, grinning all the while. "Amended to favorite person in the world. This is delicious."

"Mother, you should leave the basket here and head back," I suggested as I took my own share and smiled as I ate it. Mother had really outdone herself this time. "Bethany and I will bring it back."

"And you'll be all right here?" Mother asked. "It looks like you're doing a wonderful job, but there is some dust in the corner."

"Bethany will get to that, with your little trick. Don't worry so much."

"I'm your mother. It's my job to worry about my children, even if they're grown." She kissed my cheek. "Ready to protect me, Carver?"

"As always, Mother," Carver laughed. "This way. Watch your step. The steps here are wobbly."

As Mother and Carver disappeared, the rest of us all but attacked the remaining pastries. "They have a pretty good relationship," Isabela noted through the crumbs.

"Father spent a lot of time with me," Bethany explained. "Well, Father and Sister. I had trouble controlling my abilities." She still had some trouble now, because of her fear. Maybe I should drag her outside of Kirkwall for some lessons. "So, Carver spent a lot of time home alone with Mother."

"And he was always a Mommy's boy," I added cheekily, dusting the crumbs off my hands and going to put things back on the now clean shelves. "Little Bethany would always hide behind Father's legs and little Carver would hide in Mother's shoulders."

"Did he spend a lot of time with you, Hawke?" Anders asked curiously. "Your father, I mean."

"Well, yeah. I'm six years older than the twins, so I got to spend a lot of time with both." It was a reason why I was so close to both of them. "If you're talking in terms of magic lessons, though, I actually didn't have a lot. I took well to it." I _loved_ magic and that did wonders for helping to learn how to use it.

"How old were you two when you showed magic, then? I was about twelve, which is a pretty normal. It's blossoms with puberty."

"Oh, how fun," Isabela snarked. "Periods, breasts, voice dropping, and setting things on fire."

"Actually, some mages only change their hair or eye color. But otherwise, yes. Very bad. Some get magic earlier, though."

"I think I was one of the early ones," Bethany murmured. "I was eight, right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed softly. I remembered that day far too well and for the wrong reasons. I'd become a blood mage that day. "You'd made a fireball bounce around."

"I remember that part. Then everything's black due to the blow."

"What blow?" Anders asked.

"There were some templars nearby," I explained. "They kidnapped her, but I got her back."

"How did you get her from _templars_?"

"I was thirteen and looked even younger. I pretended to be lost to get into the camp and then got them when their guard was down."

"_How_?"

"Their ability to nullify magic only works from a set distance away. Get in close and they're just people in armor." Armor conducted electricity very well, and lightning was the first spell I ever learned.

"When you were thirteen."

"Mess with my family only if you'd like a messy death."

"Don't forget children," Isabela added. She wasn't the least bit disturbed by the knowledge that I had killed templars. "You should've seen her when she realized that serial killer was going after children."

"And, of course, Aveline," Anders added sheepishly. "I have first hand experience with that one."

"Aveline's family," I informed him with great dignity. "So, there you go."

"Anyway, how old were _you,_ Hawke? When you showed magic, I mean."

I didn't answer right away, but turned to Isabela, who was going to sit on the bed again to watch. "You going to actually help or just keep sitting on your ass?" I asked her.

"I have a nice ass to sit on," she replied cheekily. "Besides, who'd miss this show? All nice and stretched out with curves and muscles in _just_ the right places for perfect viewing?"

"Being helpful might get you a better chance of getting personal with those curves and muscles, you know."

Isabala laughed outright, and laughed harder at Bethany's embarrassed squeak. "Oh, all right, all right." She got up and started helping me organize the shelf. "You should be a merchant with that hard bargaining."

"Yeah, yeah." I turned to Anders, who was trying to muffle his own laughter. "To actually answer your question, Anders, I was four. There was a thunderstorm and I caught the lightning."

"And gave your parents a heart attack, I bet," he replied, still trying to muffle his laughter.

"Doesn't even begin to describe it." I forced my tone to be cheerful, even though I wasn't feeling it. My hair had started turning white soon after that. Father had cried when he'd seen the pale roots. He had gathered me up in his arms and cried and apologized over and over again. He had desperately hoped that none of us would have magic, because of the burden it was in society. "Doesn't begin to describe it at all."

"So, this is where you all are?" And suddenly there was Varric, looking exasperated. "I've been looking all over Kirkwall," he continued with a sigh. "It was _far_ too quiet today."

"So, where is everybody?" Bethany asked.

"Well, Elf is running a mercenary job for some quick coin. Aveline's being a guard, who'd have thought. Daisy got lost at the docks and nearly fell in, but I managed to get her home. Junior's at the Lowtown Market with Leandra, who's planning on cooking up something nice for her kids, the lucky nugs."

"You're more than welcome to join us, Varric. I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind."

"Don't tempt me."

"It's an offer, not a temptation."

"Maybe I will, then."

"She's already invited _me_, Varric," Isabela added. "I'm sure she won't mind an extra to the couple she invited."

"Couple?" Anders repeated. "Are you dragging me into this?"

"She said specifically to drag you along to make sure you're getting enough to eat."

"Aha! So the gleams rang true!" We all laughed. "So, Varric, why did you decide to look down here?"

"I figured I'd at least find _you_, Blondie," Varric answered easily. "Also, I wanted to ask questions of that weird Fade place for that story."

"Wait, you weren't joking about making up a story about an apostate?"

"I never joke about stories. So, this Fade place… how do you even move in it?"

"It's the nature of the Fade to guide you to your heart's desire."

"That sounded like it was from a textbook," I noted with a grin.

"That's because it is. Trust me, they don't get much more entertaining. Until you start drawing in the margins. Then things are entertaining again." Anders smiled slyly. "Any more information, Varric, has a price, by the way."

"Of?"

"Helping me clean, of course. The sheets have to soak overnight unfortunately, but everything else is something even a dwarf can do."

"Ouch, hard bargain. What if I bought you sheets?"

"I'd appreciate it, but that'll only get you one bit of information."

"Sunshine?"

"I wouldn't know how to answer you, Varric," Bethany answered innocently. Oh, yes, she would. She was _fantastic_ at spell theory, after all, and would probably make an excellent teacher. She just needed to get over her fear of actually _using_ magic.

"Hawke?"

"I'm afraid my knowledge of magic is a little too instinctive to explain," I admitted awkwardly. "I train heavily, but I don't know how to explain what I _do_."

"So, I have to accept Blondie's demands? Well, never let it be said I don't work for my stories. Where do I start?"

"You can help Bethany with the sweeping," Anders informed him with a grin. "Shame you don't have a beard to use, but I'm sure you can wield a dustpan."

"Oh, haha. Let's get working, Sunshine."

I couldn't help but giggle as they went to work, placing the last of items on the shelves. I almost asked what I could do next, but then the low rumbling of thunder crept into the clinic. A storm?

"Well, that looks like it'll be a doozy," Isabela noted as she went to poke her head out the door to check the skyline visible from the sides of Darktown. "Gates'll close early. Anders, you might want to see about getting this place ready for refugees, and colds."

"How can you tell?" Bethany asked as she too went to look. "It looks fine."

"Sweetling, I'm a pirate. My life depended on knowing how to read the weather. Trust me, this one is going to pour down, and it's going to in a hurry."

Storm. There was a storm coming. "Bethany, do I need to walk you home?" I asked slowly.

"Um… n-no?" She smiled shakily. "I think… I think I'll be fine. After all, we are having guests. They can walk me home."

"Why the question, Hawke?" Varric asked. "Do we actually have something as mundane as a fear of thunder in our group?"

"Not in the slightest," I answered absently. "Bethany, be sure to not wait up. I'm sure Mother will know what's up as soon as it starts raining."

"All right," she agreed, returning to her sweeping as the others looked at each other in confusion. Bethany didn't even think about explaining, because this was so commonplace to her. "I'll have tea ready for you in the morning."

"Thanks! See you all later!" And I raced out of the Clinic to make my way outside the gates.

A storm was coming. A _storm_!

* * *

Isabela was right. This storm was quite heavy. The rain came pouring down with almost enough strength to bruise, and it almost seemed like it was trying to double the size of the Amaranthine Sea. But that was just fine by me. I _loved_ storms, the heavier the better.

During storms, I could use my magic at full power without worry of after effects. Lighting? Who would notice a few more during a storm? Ice? Freeze the water that'll quickly melt again. Fire? There was enough rain to put it out. True, I'd never been able to figure out a way to use the earth magic I knew without problems, but the rest? The rest was fun enough!

I was laughing like a child, dancing and skipping in the puddles as I released spells left and right some distance away from Kirkwall. I'd loved storms before even learning of magic, actually. I'd always run about in it. That was how I discovered I could catch lighting, discovered I had magic.

"_Magic courses through everything that lives, little bird."_ I could still hear Father whispering in my ear, even though he'd been dead for four years, and the lessons had stopped long before that. _"My own teachers theorized it was that which gave life, in fact. But only a few have the ability to manipulate it."_ I was one of those few. When I'd been little, I'd actually pitied the non-mages. Magic was beautiful. Magic was glorious. I loved it. I was sad I couldn't use it in daily life to its full splendor. _"Magic isn't the answer to everything."_ But it was wonderful anyway. Oh, why couldn't this be shown to non-mages? Maybe if someone went about teaching them about magic, just as you teach about history, things would be better? If they could see just how beautiful it was…

My twirling slowed to a halt as I noticed someone in a dark dress and cloak slip into a nearby cave. Oh, someone had been caught out here? I'd better check up on them. This sort of weather was just perfect for catching colds, after all. Thankfully, the cave wasn't very difficult to get to, even with the ground being unstable and the rocks being slippery.

"Everything all right here, ma'am?" I asked as I stepped into the cave with the cloaked woman. I almost wondered if she was the same one as before, but _this_ one had no problems in showing her face, so I knew she wasn't. This woman had dark black hair and glittering gold eyes like a cat. She carried a small baby wrapped in dark blue blankets and, even as she turned to face me, she made sure I couldn't see the child. I couldn't even see a skin tone.

"Tis a strange place to meet someone," the woman noted as she slowly relaxed. She kept her baby close to her chest. "What brings you here?"

"I'm a child at heart and was playing in the rain. But I saw you duck inside here and thought to check on you. Sorry if I startled you."

"Tis fine. I see the light of magic in you. Fear not. I, too, am a mage." She smiled slightly. "Tis nice to see another who shuns the cages."

"If you're talking about the Circle, I dislike them because I want a nice, quiet life for my family and I have no interest in being cooped up in a place. I like the farmlands and I liked the wandering life."

"My, how sensible." She chuckled. "I like you."

"My thanks. Now, are you and your child well? It's quite a storm, and I do have some healing magic."

"More than that, I suspect, but fear not. Both I and… my child are well." She hesitated after the 'and'. "Tis still strange, to be a mother."

"Haven't been one long?"

"Nay."

"Are you certain you've recovered from the birthing?"

"My, so many questions." Her smile turned a touch mocking. "Tis strange for a stranger to ask so many, yes?"

"I like helping." I made sure to keep my own smile polite. Some people turned to mockery when they were uncomfortable. That was one of the first lessons Father taught me when I started to learn how to heal. "So, are you well? What brings you to this area?"

"I am well, and I am afraid my curiosity refused to be sated from distant viewing, so I came close. I plan on another writing a letter to a dear friend of mine about the troubles to come."

Troubles? "How can you tell that?"

"I look to the signs, of course. Darkness is closing in." I swore her eyes started to glow. "This world is destined to fall to a bitter end. What do you think will be the chosen path of the person who can actually do something about it?"

"I'd hope they'd choose to be that person and didn't have it forced upon them."

"Oh, there is always a choice. You could choose to simply stand aside and watch the world crumble into dust."

"Who would do that? If you can help, you should!"

"That is your _choice_." …This was a woman who was accustomed to being right and was a smug _bitch_ when she was. "But, now, answer my question?"

It took me a while to word my reply. "I'd hope they'd stand against it," I whispered. "I'd hope they saved this world."

"I see. Well, tis impossible to save everyone, but perhaps they can save the world anyway. I fear this city will be lost, as well as many others."

"Pardon?"

"Tis what fate decided, not I." Fate again? "None shall save them when everything falls apart."

"No, I'll protect them!" I found myself declaring as the thunder crashed outside. It was like the storm was agreeing with my sudden anger. "I'll save as many as I can! I will _never_ just stand aside and watch people perish!" That woman from a few days ago… she had begged me to do this, hadn't she? She was like me, wasn't she? Someone who refused to accept things because of 'fate'. "Even if it's just one person, it'll be one person _you_ wrote off as an inevitable death!"

Strangely, she didn't look one bit perturbed by my outburst. "Well, it looks like Thedas has a very good candidate for its Champion." She smiled warmly. "I look forward to seeing you embracing that destiny."

"Are you related to Flemeth by any chance?" I had to ask, my outrage smouldering. "Or some woman with vibrant-red hair and silver-blue eyes? Because this is the _third_ time I've had someone give me cryptic advice and it's getting tiring!"

"I was not aware you had met my mother, or my sister in friendship. If I had, I would not have warned you. I'm sure they worded it far more eloquently than I."

"Why am I _not_ surprised you're that witch's daughter?"

"Keen intuition helped by a touch of foresight. Listen for it. If you do not hear anything, then listen for the wind itself. You look like a bird, so I am certain it will talk to you." I looked like a bird? "Is something the matter?"

"Just noting the amusement of 'looking like a bird'." I smiled wryly. "I'm a Hawke and an Amell."

"I do not know what 'an Amell' is."

"Wow, so you _don't_ know everything."

"Unfortunately, that is something I had to learn during the Blight." She looked up. "It seems the rains have lightened. Tis time for me to move on."

"To where?"

"Who knows? Orlais sounds fascinating, though." She smiled again as she stood up. She was still very careful to keep her baby concealed. "I wish you well, though I am not certain we shall meet again."

"No offense, but I think I'll ask Andraste to make it so that I don't."

She actually laughed. "I do like you. Take care, hawk." She walked out of the cave with the grace of a cat. Sighing, I took the spot that she'd been sitting, intending on using this as my camp for the night. After all, the gates of Kirkwall were long since shut tight for curfew.

I swear, though, if I get one more person giving me cryptic advice within the next year or so, I was going to scream.

* * *

Author's Note – yes, I had her cameo. No, I don't care it didn't happen in game. What happens if Inquisition debunks it? Luckily, this is a character known for lying. Yay for more Inquisition foreshadowing! (Sorry, Hawke. I swear I'll give you another happy chapter! …Someday)

Aside from that fun bit, we had character interactions in the clinic. Sorry that Isabela shows up a lot, but I _really_ like her (and her interactions with the other characters are some of the best). Considering that a strong friendship (or rivalry) is needed for a certain key event, I figured I'd do my best to show that actual friendship.

Next Chapter – The First Sacrifice. Back to the main game! (This next chapter probably won't come out as fast as the previous ones as a) not as fun and b) midterms are starting.)


End file.
